Prospects
by ownedbyacat
Summary: Slow-burn ByaRen (with ShuuKen & Kisuke/Yoruichi) - Renji's a geologist, Byakuya owns a mining company. A large mineral find puts their lives in danger. While learning to work together to stay safe, both slowly realise that there are hearts at stake here, as well as minerals. Can they make it work or will both lose what's important to them?
1. The Giraffe at the Petrolstation

**Chapter 1**

_Ah man, he really is as inconspicuous as the giraffe at the petrol station._

Dr Renji Abarai leaned against the edge of the bar in the only decent hotel in town and downed two thirds of his beer with a pleasurable shudder. It was nicely hopped and ice cold. Just the thing to wash the grit out of his throat after six weeks in the bush.

As dehydrated as he was, that first beer always gave him a pleasant buzz. He picked a salt cube from the plate by his elbow, flicked it into his mouth and washed it down with another swallow of beer. At this time of the afternoon, the bar was not busy. Maybe half a dozen patrons enjoyed the artificially cool air along with inoffensive smooth jazz and their choice of drinks. Conversations were muted and the barkeep knew not to pester Renji for stories. Not yet.

Renji's return to civilisation was a long-practised ritual. One most people who frequented the hotel and knew him were familiar with. He always returned to the town mid-afternoon, when guests lunching in the hotel had left and the evening crowd had not yet arrived. He treated himself to a cold beer and much-needed salt at the bar, listened to the conversations around him, but didn't join in.

In his years as a mineral prospector, Renji had learned that he was just as content with only nature and stars for company, as he was in a noisy crowd of friends, laughter and music. Leaving the town on a trip was never a hardship. But when he returned, he always needed a few hours to adjust to sounds and people. And the bar with its peaceful music and muted conversation was the ideal place to remind him of the civilised side of his life. In a little while, he'd go upstairs, shed his dusty clothes and take a long, cool shower. For the moment, he had better things to do and certainly nicer things to look at.

The object of his fascination – definitely a stranger to the town – occupied the far end of the bar. Though _occupied_ was probably the wrong term to use. The man didn't touch the bar or lean on the wood like all other patrons. Oh, no. He stood as straight as a young birch and held a glass of beer as if he was about to propose a Royal Toast. He also wore Tilley's like other men wore evening dress.

Renji admired the sleek black hair that fell loose to the man's shoulders. It shone, even in the dim light of the bar, and looked incredibly soft. And when the man lifted his beer and drank, Renji found new delights. Dark-lashed pale eyes. A long neck and pale throat. A small curve of lip. A glint of heavy signet ring on a slim hand.

_Obviously gorgeous_, Renji concluded and finished his beer. _Obviously rich. And obviously not for me_.

He ran fingers along his long, loose braid and winced at the tangles. He really needed that shower. But he wasn't looking forward to restoring his mane to a state where it was fit to be seen. He never was. Even though he brushed it daily, his hair was always a mess when he returned from a trip. And for the millionth time he considered cutting it. He'd let it grow ever since his graduation, but maybe it was time for a change.

With a tired sigh, Renji set the empty glass down and nodded to the barkeep before he pushed away from the long expanse of polished wood. He headed for the stairs and his room when he almost bumped shoulders with a man entering the bar.

"Sorry Shūhei," he mumbled on automatic and then froze. Half-turned. Stared. "SHŪHEI?"

Eyes the colour of eucalyptus leaves stared back at him. Eyes he would have known anywhere. Just like the soft black hair standing up in all directions, heat be damned.

Renji scrubbed a hand across his face, but the image didn't change. Not much, at least. Instead of a wide-eyed stare, he was now looking at a wide grin.

"I should have known you'd be propping up the bar," Shūhei Hisagi said, looking him over with professional detachment and no surprise whatsoever.

"What are you doing here?" Renji wondered if the sun had finally fried his brain. Shūhei was in England, doing some don't-talk-about-it undercover shit for the government, wasn't he?

Shūhei rolled his eyes. "Looking for you, obviously."

"Well, you've found me. And I ain't going anywhere." Renji decided to leave worrying about the bizarre situation until _after _he was human again. "If you'll excuse me, there's an hour's worth of cold water that has my name all over it."

"Cold water? And lots of it? Man, you've changed," Shūhei grinned. He turned to follow Renji up the stairs. "I would have expected at least..."

"Yeah, yeah. You obviously didn't look too closely on your way into town. Nothin' like that around here." Renji wasn't complaining. Really, he wasn't. He'd long accepted that the cost for doing what he loved was a nearly nonexistent sex life. He could live with that. Most of the time.

"May I come in?" Shūhei's voice was careful and Renji grinned.

"'course. Only thing here's dusty gear and plenty of soap and water." He held the door open and let Shūhei step past him into the suite.

Renji had spent the last two years in the area and the two small rooms were as close to home as Renji got. He had an agreement with the hotel's owner that they could clear and let his rooms while he was away, but so far, the hotel had never been busy enough to make that necessary. So there were books and a few knick-knacks on the shelves, rocks on the windowsill and a laptop on the desk, along with notebooks, stacks of rolled maps and several mugs of coloured pencils.

A sofa and two armchairs surrounded a small coffee table by the window and Renji waved his guest into a seat while he took off his boots and padded in socked feet into his bedroom. "Tell me how you've been. I thought you were a spook."

Shūhei sat and stretched out his long legs. "Haven't been one for a long time. Some things just... don't fit."

Renji grimaced at the cagey statement. He and Hisagi had been flat mates during their time at university. Shūhei, a few years older and just released from active service, had been a hellraiser. But it hadn't taken Renji long to figure out the reason behind alcohol-soaked nights, screaming rave parties and too many one-night stands. The day he'd decided to confront Shūhei had been epic with both of them ending up in the ER.

"I remember," he said, leaning his head around the doorframe to consider his friend. "What happened?"

Shūhei shrugged. "I quit," he said simply. "Looked for work. Ended up at Kuchiki Industries."

"And?"

"What do you mean?"

"Ah, hell. Be that way." Renji pulled the shirt over his head. "Get them to send up a few beers and sandwiches while I shower, would you?" He barely waited for Hisagi's confirmation before he stepped into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

For as long as he could remember, Renji had hated cold water. In the orphanage where he grew up, it was a form of punishment and as a student he often had to choose between a hot shower or a warm dinner. But all that had changed when he started to work in the bush. He'd actually picked this area because it was warm and rain was scarce. And he didn't regret it. But now cool water was something to relish and look forward to. And Renji indulged himself.

Room service had delivered their order and Shūhei was halfway through his beer by the time Renji reappeared in khaki shorts and a deep green T-shirt. He carried a brush and comb in one hand, while rubbing at his wet hair with a towel.

"Feel human again?" Hisagi grinned as he opened a beer and held it up.

"Getting there." Renji snagged the bottle and dropped onto the sofa. "Nice to know there's still skin under the grit. And sitting down on something soft..." He propped his feet up on the edge of the coffee table. "There are advantages to civilisation."

They sat in comfortable silence, beers in hand and eyes on each other. Physically, Shūhei hadn't changed much. The slimness that hid wiry strength was still there, as was the careful look in the eucalyptus eyes. Hisagi wore sensible loose khaki slacks and ankle boots, but his grey-green top – the exact same colour as his eyes – fitted snugly across his torso. He was still working out. And it showed.

"Come on, spill," Renji invited eventually. "I can see that something's happened. Just tell me what it is. And how it relates to you turning up in this out of the way corner of the planet."

"You contacted Kuchiki Industries about a mineral find."

"I did."

"And I'm part of corporate security at Kuchiki Industries."

"Oh," Renji considered that. "So you're here to check me out?"

Shūhei shrugged vaguely. "You, the find, the area, the competition. And to stop me getting bored I'm looking after the boss." He drew a deep breath. "So, what do you think of him?"

"Him? Who?"

"Keep up, Renji – Kuchiki Byakuya! He stood opposite you at the bar. You're telling me you didn't talk?"

_The giraffe at the petrol station._ Renji stared into middle distance, stared at an image that hovered in mid-air. "Dark-haired guy? Wearing Tilley's? Looking as if he owns the country?"

"Yes, Renji. _That_ guy."

"That is Byakuya Kuchiki?" he queried, disbelief loud in his voice. "Why did I ever bother to talk to bloody Aizen?"


	2. Trip Wires

**Author's Note:**

First of all, a huge thank you and cookies to everyone who took the time to comment and fave and follow. Makes me feel as if I could touch the moon - and if you're a writer, I'm sure you'll know what I'm talking about.

Second bit of news, equally important: all cock-ups are still mine and mine only, but Ichibanseiken, whose Bya/Ren stories I've been enjoying since I started reading fanfic, has very kindly agreed to beta. THANK YOU! **Offers bow, extra cookies and a glass of something nice and sparkly!** I'm very much hoping that she can keep me on the straight and narrow where the characterisation is concerned as I work my way through this story.

I still don't own Bleach, the boys (shame that!) or any aspect of either anime or manga, ok?

And now, enough waffle and on with Prospects, Chapter 2:

* * *

**Chapter 2: Trip Wires**

_"That is Byakuya Kuchiki?" he queried, disbelief loud in his voice. "Why did I ever bother to talk to bloody Aizen?"_

Shūhei froze and stared at the man he thought he knew. A man he had vouched for. "You... what?" He thought of the man downstairs at the bar – unarmed and unprotected – and finding breath was suddenly a struggle. "You told Aizen of this find?"

"Hey!" Renji protested. "I may be crazy, but I'm not stupid!"

"You just said..."

Renji drew a deep breath, trying to get his bearings. "Crossed wires, ok?" he placated. "I was merely expressing my appreciation of... ?" He stopped himself before he mentioned giraffes and waved his hands around, looking uncomfortable. "Nothing more."

"But you know Aizen."

"Yeah. I do. And I hate his guts."

"Really?" Hisagi tried to keep the scepticism out of his voice. But it came over loud and clear. Just like the hard edge. And the hurt.

Renji ran his fingers through his hair as much in an effort to smooth out tangles as to calm himself. "Shuu, listen to me. Aizen's outfit and I have history. I don't deny that. I don't mind if you quiz me about it, either. I'll answer."

"Honestly?"

"If you're implying that I've ever lied to you...," Renji began, voice dangerously low.

"Sorry." Shūhei dragged himself out of his seat. "I shouldn't have said that. But you knowing Aizen... and the Kuchiki being here... it gets me all kinds of worried." He looked Renji right in the eyes. "Relations between the two companies are very strained at present."

"Shūhei, I'm not Aizen's toy. I'm a freelance prospector. I've found a lode and I sure as hell don't want Aizen to have it. That's why I offered it to Kuchiki Industries. Ask me any question in the book and then some. I'll answer."

Renji picked up the brush from the sofa and started to work the snarls from his hair. "And let me tell you that you look like a chicken with your shoulders around your ears!"

Shūhei's unexpected bark of laughter dispelled the tense atmosphere. He released the pent up breath he hadn't known he was holding and he cursed his training that made trusting someone so damned difficult. But then, it also kept people alive.

"Let me talk to the boss while you tear your hair out," he said, only half joking, and strode to the door. "He said something about discussing your find over dinner."

He located Byakuya Kuchiki in the hotel's lounge, where the man was contemplating a small water sculpture of autumn leaves dancing in an invisible breeze. A steady stream of water welled from the tip of the topmost leaf, swirled over burnished surfaces and ended its journey in a shallow copper bowl. When he first saw the fountain, Shūhei just _had_ to find out how the sculptor had suspended the leaves in mid-air without visible support. And where the water came from.

It amused him to think that the unflappable tycoon he worked for had a similar streak of childish curiosity.

"Hisagi." Byakuya Kuchiki waved a slim hand in invitation to sit and Shūhei took a seat opposite the older man.

"He didn't recognise you or speak to you?"

"No and no," Byakuya confirmed. "He did not speak to anyone. The barkeep tells me that when Abarai returns from a trip he usually spends some time at the bar, just drinking beer and listening to people chat."

"He knows Aizen," Shūhei reported. "He says they have history. But he offered to answer any questions we may want to ask."

Byakuya thought this over. "You still believe him?"

"Yes."

"Very well. We will have dinner as planned, then. I have asked the manager to reserve the conservatory, which will provide some privacy. Make sure you keep anything sensitive until we are on the road."

"Understood," Shūhei nodded and stood. "I'll go get Renji."

The redhead had changed into khaki pants and a deep green button-down shirt by the time Shūhei knocked on his door. He'd braided the top portion of his hair and left the rest loose and falling over his shoulders in a way that reminded Shūhei of their student days.

With his rugged good looks – especially with his hair down – Renji never had trouble finding a date when he wanted one, but he'd only rarely gone looking. Shūhei had realised at some point that Renji being easygoing and popular didn't mean he trusted any easier than Shūhei. Renji was comfortable with himself – much more comfortable than Shūhei was at the time – and had never felt the need to prove anything to anyone. After graduation, the redhead had taken off into the wilderness to do a job he loved, and the intervening years hadn't changed him into a different person. The way he lived in this small town was ample proof of that.

The coil of tension between Shūhei's shoulder blades slowly unwound as he accepted the fact that the threat to Kuchiki Industries was not coming from his friend. Shūhei would stake his life on that truth.

"The boss has arranged for us to have dinner in the conservatory," he explained softly as the two men made their way down the stairs. "It's more private than the dining room, but he asks that you keep any sensitive information until we're out of town?"

"Suits me," Renji agreed. "Now stop being so serious!" His mock-glare dissolved into a broad grin. "And by the way... you should consider trying the steak. The chef has this amazing secret spice rub you just wouldn't believe!"

"I'm sure I can manage to poison myself if I feel the need," Shūhei grumbled, but he took Renji's advice and relaxed. A little.

* * *

Byakuya Kuchiki stood by the conservatory door when Shūhei and Renji arrived. He had ditched the vest of many pockets and changed his khakis for black slacks and a lavender shirt that did amazing things for his eyes.

Shūhei, keeping two steps back, heard the softly indrawn breath and saw Renji straighten his shoulders before he crossed the threshold into the small, glass-walled room.

"Good evening, Mr Kuchiki," he greeted, holding out a hand. "I'm Renji Abarai."

"So Hisagi tells me."

Renji's eyebrows rose almost into his hairline. "You brought him along to confirm my identity?"

"I brought him along," Byakuya indicated the table and the men took their seats, "because he is good at his job. That he went to school with you is a minor bonus."

"That just shows how little you know," Renji quipped before remembering that he wasn't talking to his best friend. He lifted a hand to the back of his neck and rubbed soothing circles with his fingertips, trying to get past his embarrassment. "Sorry. The thought that someone needed to verify _me_ just messed with my head for a moment."

"I understand," Byakuya said and signalled the waitress, who approached them with a friendly smile. "Unfortunately, it is a necessity. I am sure you would agree were you aware of the quantity of... speculative fiction we're offered on a regular basis."

A moment passed while the woman took their drinks order, dispensed menus and talked about specials. Renji was enthusiastically ordering steak and after some discussion, the other two men joined him. When the waitress left, Renji took up the conversation. "Gold deposits you can pick up with a shovel?"

"Crackpot proposals like this are easy to weed out," the Kuchiki explained calmly. "Plausible cases are far more dangerous to the business. I am referring to cases that are geographically and geologically probable, well documented, mapped and sampled – like the one you submitted to us. Do you have any idea, Dr. Abarai, how much time, effort and funds we could sink into a really convincing fake project? To the detriment of competing for other, more genuine ones?"

"That's why you discourage freelance prospectors," Renji nodded, as if, all of a sudden, some long-standing puzzle had been cleared up. "It makes sense, but I'd bet it also costs you a few good opportunities."

Byakuya Kuchiki's hand froze in the process of reaching for his glass. He leaned ever so slightly towards the redhead, focussing his whole attention on the other man. "Are you speaking from experience, Dr. Abarai?"

"I am," Renji confirmed, but just then the waitress returned and set one enormous steak with all the trimmings in front of him. "And this looks just like the thing a guy dreams of while out in the bush!"

"You're sure easy to please, Ren," the woman chuckled. "And I'll tell Raimo you said so."

"You do that, sweet. Those steaks of his really deserve it."

The food looked and smelled as amazing as Renji had promised and for a while, little was heard around the table but the sound of silverware on porcelain.

Shūhei found the experience surreal. He'd expected to head off the Spanish Inquisition before they'd even sat down to dinner, but Byakuya Kuchiki was downright accommodating. He'd asked only simple questions and was clearly making an effort to get to know Renji. And while he wasn't effusive – now there was a thought! – that icy, disdainful tone that the Kuchiki used to such effect was nowhere in evidence.

"You were saying?" Byakuya prompted them back to the main topic of the conversation once the dishes were cleared and the men had coffee and cognac in front of them.

Shūhei, who had worked with Byakuya for the last two years and was used to the man's sudden about turns, had no difficulty catching the reference, but Renji had clearly let his mind wander to other pleasant topics. His eyes widened in dismay and a faint flush spread over his cheekbones as he scrambled to backtrack the conversation.

"Ah, yes," he said at length with a small apologetic smile. "Kuchiki Industries has a reputation for not accepting submissions from freelancers. And brokers will deal with any company that offers good commissions." Renji leaned back in his chair, one hand playing with a strand of hair. "Not on the same track, those two things. I was green. Maybe wanted more ... control ... over the find. So, I contacted your guys. Got blown off. After a while, I accepted things the way they were and hired a broker."

"And you lived to regret it." Shūhei's words dropped like ice into the conversation. He didn't need a confirmation. The truth was written loud and clear in Renji's face.

"I'm still regretting it," the redhead said softly. "It's not what I came out here for. So now, I'm twice as cagey. I've offered the lode to you, but I won't give you anything beyond my submission until I see some reassurances about the way it will be developed."

They stared at one another across the table, prospector and mining tycoon, but it didn't feel like a contest as much as an unspoken conversation. And Shūhei had the distinct impression that either man liked what he saw. He leaned back in his chair, watchful, but intent to enjoy the show.

"Your request is by no means unreasonable, Dr. Abarai. Kuchiki Industries aims to operate fairly and respect boundaries. I am sure we will be able to come to an arrangement."

"In exchange for?"

Of course, Renji had caught the unspoken 'but' at the end of Byakuya's sentence. Shūhei masked a smile with a strategically placed palm...when the back of his neck grew suddenly tight. A quick check around the small room showed them still alone. He'd stopped the waitress from closing the floor-length drapes when they'd entered the conservatory and the glass reflected nothing but a table, three men and assorted greenery. Still, instincts were instincts for a reason.

Shūhei rose from his chair. "Excuse me for just a moment, sir," he said, turning away from the table. As he left the room, he heard Byakuya Kuchiki's response to Renji's question.

"I would like to hear details of that project you mentioned earlier."

The prickly feeling in his neck grew stronger as Shūhei stepped from the conservatory into the main restaurant. A third of the tables were occupied and the waitress who had served them moved between the diners. A second waiter stood in attendance closer to the conservatory door.

Shūhei processed the scene as he walked through the room. None of the faces he swiftly catalogued screamed 'threat' or even 'potential threat'. Most diners were intent on their own parties as he walked towards the hotel's lobby and his passing did not cause any ripples in the hum of conversation.

The reception desk in the lobby was staffed and a middle-aged couple occupied one of the deep leather sofas, drinks in hand and engrossed in one another. Shūhei entered the restroom as if this had been his goal all along, retracing his steps a few minutes later.

Two expectant faces turned towards him when he returned to the conservatory and resumed his seat. "We'll better conclude this conversation elsewhere. One of the waiters bothers me," he said in a low voice.

Renji scoffed at that. "Some spook you are," he teased. "This fine establishment only has one male waiter, and he broke his foot last week. Hence the lady who served our dinner, who is the chef's wife."

"They could have hired a temporary replacement."

"Could have, but didn't. I'd know."

Byakuya Kuchiki's face – amethyst-grey eyes wide and one eyebrow climbing to his hairline – was a study in quiet disbelief. Shūhei waited for the storm, but Renji merely shrugged.

"Have it your way," he said, voice amiable.

His placid attitude reminded Shūhei of two things: that this was, indeed, Renji's backyard and that Renji had always been a man whom people shared their news and secrets with. He never told, never shared his own, but he knew... almost everything.

Byakuya Kuchiki seemed to have come to a similar conclusion, even though he hadn't spent years getting to know the redhead. "See if you can get a shot," he instructed Hisagi. "Then call Muguruma and have him check it out."

"Muguruma?"

Renji's eyes grew wide at the name and Shūhei felt a flush heat his face. He was glad when the Kuchiki pretended not to notice either man's reaction and answered Renji's question as if he'd asked the time of day.

"The head of Kuchiki Industries Corporate Security, Kensei Muguruma."

There was a beat of silence. Then Renji 's voice, very softly: "Well, I'll be damned!"


	3. The Pebble that Starts the Landslide

**Author's Note: **This turned into a much longer chapter than I had originally planned, but I hope it's worth the wait and worth the time spent reading. It's setting up a lot of the stuff that's happening later, so cutting corners was not an option. (Is it ever?) Enormous thanks to Ichibanseiken, who read the early version and helped me figure out why I thought it didn't work. Can't say how grateful I am!

If you can take the time to review this, you'd make me very happy. If you can't, I'm happy if you enjoy the story. And if anyone's curious: Pimm's is a much-beloved summer drink, a sort of alcoholic fruit punch, served over ice with orange slices, cucumbers sticks, strawberries and mint.

As usual, Bleach isn't mine.

* * *

**Chapter 3: The Pebble that Starts the Landslide**

_"The head of Kuchiki Industries Corporate Security, Kensei Muguruma."_  
_There was a beat of silence. Then Renji 's voice, very softly: "Well, I'll be damned!"_

Renji woke to the luxury of a well-padded mattress, soft sheets, and the immediate prospects of a hot shower followed by a lavish breakfast that someone else had cooked. He never needed to count his blessings to know how lucky he was. Lucky to be alive. Lucky to be doing a job he loved. Lucky to have a friend who truly saw him, years and distances be damned.

Thoughts of Shūhei painted a wide grin on his face. The man had wriggled like the proverbial eel, but the redhead hadn't let him slip away to his room after dinner. Not after that bombshell.

Renji stretched until his shoulders popped and decided that bullying Shūhei into a confession had been so worth it!

_"You're working with Kensei Muguruma? How the hell did that happen?" _

_Renji didn't mask the outrage in his voice. After all, that was the man, because of whom Shūhei had ditched his military career. And thoughts of whom had driven Shūhei to drink and close to expulsion during the first two years of his degree course._

_"Did he – you know – join the company after you got there?"_

_Shūhei shook his head, looking far too content sprawled in the armchair across from Renji. "Kensei's name was not listed in the company records, so I had no idea that he was head of CorpSec when I applied."_

_"Would you have?"_

_"Of course not. I almost had a heart attack when he walked in on my interview." The corners of Shūhei's mouth turned down. "It was as if the years in between hadn't happened. There he was... and I..."_

_"I bet you got good and drunk that night."_

_A shocked laugh answered him. "I did. And when they phoned to offer the job, I turned it down. Then Kensei shows up on my doorstep with the paperwork."_

_The look on Shūhei's face came as a total shock to Renji – even though it explained everything. _

_"Been together ever since," the brunet said simply._

The wide grin didn't leave Renji's face as he made his way into the shower and through his morning routine. It tickled his romantic streak that Shūhei had got what he'd always wanted. Events like that were rare. Especially for someone as introspective as his best friend.

And why that led him to thoughts of Shūhei's equally introspective boss, Renji just didn't want to think about.

To say that Renji had been surprised by Byakuya Kuchiki would be an understatement. He had spent enough years in the industry to know that the Kuchiki ran a tight ship. Whenever he had thought about the man at the helm of Kuchiki Industries – and he had spent a lot of time thinking – he envisaged someone larger than life. Someone decisive, with rough edges, and maybe a little ruthless. Not the elegant, formal, restrained creature he had met last night.

While he dressed, Renji allowed his mind a few seconds to drool over the image of Byakuya Kuchiki standing at the hotel bar, head tilted back to take a swallow of beer. The pale throat had been bewitching. And the hair... Renji sighed and pulled himself together. Byakuya Kuchiki might look like an Italian prince, all poised and smouldering, but he had a reputation for missing little.

This, after all, was the man who had inherited a mining company from his grandfather when he was barely out of school, who had seen off a boardroom revolt and a hostile takeover bid before he was 25 and who had grown Kuchiki Industries into one of the major players in a competitive field. And Byakuya Kuchiki's assertion over dinner that the company aimed to deal fair was no idle boast.

No, despite the chance of another eyeful of gorgeous Kuchiki, Renji Abarai was not looking forward to his next conversation with the mining tycoon. At the very least, it would be damned awkward. Renji just didn't like to talk about some topics. And his first big mineral find was top of that list.

Renji was still unsure how best to explain his lack of judgement without compromising the new project as he made his way down the stairs. To his surprise, he found both Byakuya Kuchiki and Shūhei in the lobby, along with two large wicker baskets.

"Good morning, Dr. Abarai," the Kuchiki greeted politely, but with an intent look on his face that took the redhead aback. "Since the weather is so favourable, I've taken the liberty to have our breakfast packed. Can you think of an enticing spot to consume it?"

Renji opened his mouth – and closed it again without voicing the complaint that was right on the tip of his tongue. If the Kuchiki had done his homework then the man would already know that Renji valued his morning coffee above rubies. And pointing out that their rooms were reasonably safe from eavesdroppers if the Kuchiki required privacy or suggesting that they breakfast in the hotel, like the civilised guests they were, before taking a stroll around town was just as moot. Because, clearly, Byakuya Kuchiki had an agenda. The man might look as cool as Pimm's and as unflappable as a bat without wings, but Shūhei was fairly vibrating with tension and the frown between his brows could have been carved with a knife. Yes, something was up and Renji decided to humour the man. For the moment.

"Sure," Renji replied just as politely and reached for the handle of the nearest basket. "And call me Renji."

He didn't get an answer. And the other man's calm expression never wavered. Renji led the way out into the gentle warmth of an early morning, wishing he'd quizzed Shūhei about his boss rather than his lover the previous night. He found it damnably difficult to read the quiet raven.

Renji's Land Rover Defender, dusty from the long trek, was parked in the far corner of the courtyard, next to a brand new Jeep that had seen little more than the road from the airport.

"Why don't you follow me an' I'll guide you to my favourite spot?"

"Will do." Shūhei didn't look at Renji as he took the basket from Renji's hand and opened the back door of the Jeep. "Give that here. I don't think you can fit these into yours." He stowed their breakfast on the back seat, then took a few steps and peered more closely at the boxes and bags piled behind the driver's seat of Renji's car. "What _is_ all that stuff?"

"Rock and soil samples. They need to go to the lab for analysis."

"Is it safe to keep them in your car?"

A quick stab of irritation at the challenge in Byakuya Kuchiki's tone had Renji bite his lip and blame caffeine deprivation. "Safe enough," he said, channelling calm. He reached into one crate and pulled out a piece of light grey rock in a plastic bag. "Limestone. But even if you know that, it won't tell you where I've taken the sample. I index each one and the key isn't obvious."

"Unless they know where you've been."

"Slim chance. Why do you think I go out for weeks at a time? And why I like this area? The strangest parageneses known to man. And if you look at the map, you think a drunken ape had a field day with a box of crayons."

"And that's the sort of thing you like...?" Shūhei sounded incredulous and Renji laughed.

"You can talk. You used to watch other people watch porn." He climbed into the Defender, started the engine and peeled out of the hotel's parking lot.

Whatever it was the man was planning, Renji got that Byakuya Kuchiki desired privacy for their next discussion, and privacy could be had just half a mile down the road. But it was early in the day, and pleasantly warm rather than hot as Hades. So he passed the small park with its simple picnic area and drove on. The road rose slowly, crossing the contours of the limestone cliff that sheltered the small town. He turned left when he reached the top of the cliff and followed its edge for almost four miles. Another twenty, and he'd be down in the flatlands, on the road to the country's largest port and civilisation.

But Renji had no intention to drive that far. He turned off onto a narrow trail and followed it halfway down the side of the cliff to the edge of a hidden ravine. Here, the world was different. The air was still, humid and smelled of rich loam. Trees rose up in a dense curtain and the deep green of their leaves tempered the blazing white of the limestone. Jagged rocks, their outlines softened by thick cushions of moss, littered the small clearing like unclaimed furniture left out after a party.

"This is different," Shūhei's voice was reverent, pitched low as if he was standing in church. He shut the door of the Jeep and looked around. "From the road, you can't even tell this is here."

Renji had found the place during his first month in the town while out mapping and taken an immediate liking to it. "Most of the year, it's not," he said, reaching for the handle of one wicker basket. "That little trickle of water over there turns into a torrent and the clearing is more swamp than solid ground. We're at the end of the dry now, so it's fine."

He walked to a group of stones that looked like a giant's dining room set and placed the basket on the largest stone. "When I'm working close by, I often stop here to write up my notes."

"I can see why," Byakuya Kuchiki replied, inspecting the trees at the perimeter of the clearing. "This is delightful. Are there caves?"

"Not in this part of the cliff. There's a stretch of karst to the west which is full of them, but this area is stable."

They settled down on the impromptu furniture and emptied the basket contents. Raimo, the hotel chef, had done himself proud with a huge dish of creamy scrambled eggs and crisp, salty bacon. There was fresh crusty bread, still slightly warm, translucent slices of smoked salmon, butter, strawberry jam, a small basket of pastries and three large thermos flasks of strong black coffee.

Renji almost moaned with bliss as he chewed on a slice of bacon and washed it down with coffee. For some reason, breakfast never tasted quite as good when he cooked it himself. His companions seemed just as taken with the impromptu picnic and for a while, only the sound of cutlery scraping plates broke the stillness of the clearing.

After a time, Renji reached for the thermos and poured himself yet another cup of coffee. "You might as well start asking your questions, Mr. Kuchiki," he said, voice resigned. He'd watched the raven-haired tycoon throughout their breakfast, but the man was not giving anything away. Byakuya Kuchiki had eschewed the moss-covered rocks and seated himself cross-legged on the soft grass instead. He wasn't relaxed, that much Renji could tell from the ramrod-straight posture, but whether he was angry or bored was anyone's guess. The man controlled his facial expressions far too well.

"Then tell me why talking about this bothers you so much."

"Well, I'm sure you just _love_ to go around telling every person you meet about the time you screwed up," Renji grumbled. He spun around when he heard Shūhei snicker, but the brunet buried his face in his coffee mug and didn't comment.

"I see your point, I think," Byakuya said, voice thoughtful. "But you knew we would exchange information on the subject, so being bothered by that fact is unnecessary." He set his coffee mug down on the grass beside him and rested his hands in his lap. "And dropping all these hints, you know... unless you explain what happened I _will _think you screwed up."

"Well, I did." Renji shifted so he faced the Kuchiki, but could keep an eye on Shūhei. His friend was still tense and on edge and he, at least, was easier to read. "I stayed in a small village while I was prospecting the area. They didn't have much, but they shared, looked after me. I explained what I was doing, what would happen if I found a deposit and the village chief went out of his way to help. He sent his son with me ... and when we found the lode, they were so pleased and... and hopeful. They talked about building a school and a hospital."

Renji leaned his back against the rock with a tired sigh. He barely noticed the concerned looks Shūhei sent his way, too spun into a past he could not change.

"What happened?" Shūhei prompted him back to the story after a few moments.

"Aizen got the concession," Renji continued. "The village got its school. Quite a few of the men went to work helping to develop the find. They cleared more area for farming, with the mining company helping out."

"Am I missing something?" Shūhei asked, frowning. "You're telling us that things worked out just fine."

"Hm." Renji poured the last of the coffee from the flask into his cup and added an obscene amount of sugar. He would have loved to add a hefty slug of brandy, but he knew it wouldn't help. "Yes, it did look that way," he said finally, comforted and steadied in a strange way by Byakuya Kuchiki's undivided attention. The man didn't move and he never took his eyes off the redhead. Renji drew a deep breath. "Until people got sick and started dying."

"How?"

It vaguely amused Renji how Shūhei seemed to be guiding him to tell the story, now that it had become difficult to tell, while the man who needed to hear it sat quietly and listened. He wondered if the two men had planned it that way, since Shūhei knew how to draw Renji out. Just as Renji knew how to get Shūhei to open up.

"Renji?"

"Trust you to note when I'm stalling," Renji quipped. He fixed his gaze on Byakuya Kuchiki's raven hair, downed the disgusting mix of coffee and sugar like a dose of Dutch courage and squared his shoulders. "The company investigated and concluded that the sickness had nothing to do with the mining operation," he continued the story. "I had moved on to a different part of the country, but my former host's son came to find me. He brought samples of soil and water, and they were full of heavy metals. I went back with him to trace the source of the contamination, but Aizen's men were watching. We were separated avoiding them and..." Renji closed his eyes, desperate to shut out the images, desperate not to remember. It worked as well as it ever had. "We found his body a week later."

Nobody spoke for a time and Renji was grateful for the respite that allowed him to push the memories back into the shady corner of his mind where he kept such things and get himself in hand again.

"I can comprehend your anger, Dr. Abarai," Byakuya's voice broke the long silence. "Though I fail to appreciate why you think you did anything wrong."

"You fail to... Jesus!" Disappointment, hurt and anger mixed into a heady brew in Renji's mind and made him queasy. He stared at the composed man across from him and wanted to scream. "It was my find," he said slowly, as if explaining the facts of life to a five-year-old. "I counselled the village to develop the deposit. _I_ sold the bloody lode to Aizen. That makes it _my_ responsibility, wouldn't you say?"

"The man who made this knife," Byakuya's slim fingers held up the bread knife Raimo had packed with the picnic basket, "is not responsible for the death of anyone I choose to stab with it."

The edges of Renji's vision started to turn red. He gritted his teeth and breathed deeply through his nose before he said something he might come to regret. "That may be true in your world, but it's certainly not true in mine. If I'm the one who brought the village to Aizen's attention, then I'm at least partway responsible for what happens there. And if I'd kept my mouth shut-"

"Another prospector would have found the lode," Byakuya said, sounding like the voice of reason. "Not immediately, perhaps, but in due time. Your scruples do you credit, Dr. Abarai, as does your attempt to investigate and improve the situation, but you must realise that you have no leverage to force Aizen into anything."

"Says who?" Renji muttered, now more than irritated with the beautiful man opposite him. What if Byakuya Kuchiki was just as ruthless as Sosuke Aizen? It didn't mesh with his knowledge of how Kuchiki Industries worked, but right then, its CEO showed just as little consideration for others as Aizen had. And that wasn't a comforting thought.

"It explains why Aizen would want to keep an eye on Renji or his interactions with any other mining firm." Shūhei's voice, clearly referring to an earlier conversation with the Kuchiki, dispelled some of the tension and Renji huffed out a deep breath.

"Is he having you followed?"

Renji shrugged. "Maybe. There's this guy in town, but he doesn't really follow me. Not out into the field, at least." He turned his head and looked at Shūhei. "What does the man have to say?"

"Nothing yet."

"Nothing? I thought you mailed the pictures over last night."

"Yes. And it's been less than twelve hours."

"Ah. The way you used to carry on, I thought that Muguruma fellow walked on water." Renji dodged a flying fist when something occurred to him. "You know, I never asked you what that suspicious waiter of yours looks like. If he's local, chances are I know who he is."

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Shūhei made a face. "Make me feel like a bloody amateur, why don't you? I deserve to be..."

"Cut it out, Shuu," Renji said simply. "You're not James Bond and last night was ... well." He shrugged. "Just tell me?"

The brunet took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then he did it again. Renji recognised one of the centring exercises Shūhei used to try to teach him to combat his exam nerves. It had never really worked for him, but Shūhei swore by it.

"Right," Shūhei said when he'd put his temper back in its box. "He was about my height. Slim. Very. Moved smoothly. His hair's close, like a cap. Colour was tricky to make out. Light. Could have been a very pale blond."

"Silver," Renji disagreed immediately. "He had TB as a child, almost died from it. His hair turned colour when it was touch and go. And it's stayed that way since."

"You know the man."

Byakuya's voice suddenly sounded from beside Renji, startling him. He'd not seen the raven get up. Or step around the boulders. It was eerie how quietly the dark-haired man moved.

"His name is Gin."

"Is he a waiter?"

"Not unless Aizen fired him." A long silence greeted that comment. Renji fiddled with the corner of a map, bending it backwards and forwards until it frayed. "He turned up in the town just over a year ago. Officially, he works for the local law firm. But he's a go-to man, really."

"You're sure about his connection to Aizen?"

"I've run across him before," Renji nodded. "He's the reason I was so careful in my communications to Kuchiki Industries. And why I don't keep my notes near me. I didn't want him to get wind that I found a lode."

"And now he has a good idea." Byakuya Kuchiki's voice was filled with some emotion Renji couldn't name. "I owe you an apology, Hisagi," he said stiffly and Renji could tell from the narrowed lips and tight shoulders that the mining tycoon didn't often apologise.

Shūhei tried to disagree, but a small movement from the raven stopped him. "You know I do," Byakuya confirmed. "Both you and Muguruma advised against my coming here. You both suggested..."

"Yeah well, it's too late for that now, isn't it?" Renji interrupted without ceremony. He wasn't quite sure which of the two men he was trying to protect from embarrassment. Or why. "Let's save the chest beating for later and move this out of town. Why don't you go back to the hotel and check out while I'll retrieve my notes and meet you at the airport."

"You'd do that?

"I never expected you to come in person to check me out," Renji shrugged. "So I was prepared for marching orders."

"Dr. Abarai, do you really want me to believe that you'd just drop everything you're doing and step on a plane to London?" Byakuya Kuchiki's glare didn't quite burn the air between them, but it tried. He clearly thought that the redhead was making fun of him.

"Why not? That's how it usually works."

"Leaving all your stuff behind?"

"My room's booked for the rest of the year. There's secure storage for the Land Rover at the airport. And I'm sure London still has a clothes shop or two. It's not as if my gear is suitable for the weather, anyway." Tired of the argument, Renji stood and started to clear away the empty dishes, plates and mugs. When nothing but a few indentations in the moss hinted at their stay he grabbed the baskets and stowed them in the back of the Jeep.

"Dr. Abarai," Byakuya Kuchiki came up to him as he reached for the Land Rover's door.

"Yes?"

"When do you expect to meet us?"

There was something in the man's intent gaze that made Renji wonder what the Kuchiki had really meant to ask. But when nothing more seemed to be forthcoming, Renji shrugged. "In about four hours or so. And please, just call me Renji." He climbed into the driver's seat and started the trek back up to the road.

Ten minutes later, he watched in his rear view mirror as Shūhei flashed his lights once and turned the Jeep onto the road that lead down the cliff and back to the town. They would reach the safety of the airport departure lounge before Renji had even retrieved his notes.

The road rolled away under his tyres, and Renji settled himself more comfortably into the driver's seat. It was still two hours to lunchtime, but he felt bone-weary. He wondered if he should call off the deal. A text to Shūhei would be all that was needed and then he could stop in the next town for provisions and disappear into the bush for a couple of months until the rumours died down.

Hell... just disappearing without a trace sounded appealing right then, because as sure as sunset he couldn't face another village suffering because of his actions. But neither could he leave Shūhei without news. It just wouldn't be fair. And anyway, he'd started this. He had contacted Kuchiki Industries and he hadn't done it on a whim. Neither should he abandon his plans on a whim – especially given how hard a time he had reading the tycoon. There'd clearly been a subtext to their discussion. A subtext, moreover, that Shūhei was aware of. And Shūhei was tense as a bowstring.

No, he wouldn't call it off just yet. He would pick up his notes and drive to the airport. And if the Kuchiki had managed to rustle up flights, he would step onto the plane and – at the very least – enjoy a few days around his old haunts in London.

Renji grinned a little at the thought of the gorgeous raven kicking his heels at the small airport. The Kuchiki didn't strike him as someone who enjoyed waiting and the redhead wondered if Byakuya Kuchiki played cards. Shūhei used to be a dab hand at poker. No. The elegant tycoon crowding a poker table was an image even more outlandish than the giraffe. Chess, maybe? Shūhei was pretty good at that-

"What the fuck...?"

Renji jerked the steering wheel to the right, barely avoiding the side of the truck that had decided to overtake him. The vehicle chugged past him in a cloud of dust and spray of pebbles, intent to occupy the same space as Renji's Land Rover.

"Amateur," Renji grunted and hit the brake to give himself room. Traffic had been so light he'd barely paid attention. Just his luck to be landed with the one idiot on the road to spoil his morning.

The truck braked too, the wheels of the trailer sliding sideways on the rough tarmac.

"God, man, have you never learned to drive?" Renji yelled as the gap between him and the edge of the cliff grew smaller and smaller. "Gas, man, gas!"

It was too late. The truck's cab slewed to the right, cutting off his forward escape and momentum swung the trailer back across the road like the lash of a whip. Renji felt the impact and heard the screech of abused metal. Then the Land Rover was airborne, tipping to the side and pitching over the edge of the road.

Leaning out of the truck's passenger window, a man with a close-fitting cap of silver hair smiled at Renji as the world around him narrowed and turned black.


	4. Fine Line

**Author's Note: ** Finally, the saga continues. Sorry for the delay, but sometimes life interferes with fiction writing. I'm sure you've all been there. Thanks for sticking around for the ride so far. And thanks for all the reviews and comments. I love finding out what you like and don't like and really appreciate every one of them.

Now, onwards and upwards, and I hope you enjoy!

Oh, and the usual disclaimer, of course.

* * *

**Chapter 4: Fine Line**

The apple described a blurry arc in the air. It hovered for an instant at the apex of its flight before it gave in to gravity and smacked into Shūhei's hand with a sharp slap a moment later. Only to take off with a quick flick of Shūhei's wrist to join the wheel of spinning items once more.

Byakuya Kuchiki leaned back on the scantily upholstered bench that was the small airport's idea of traveller comfort and resisted the urge to check his watch again. It was Swiss, precision-engineered and reliable – and consulting it once more would do nothing to change the situation. The Kuchiki company jet had arrived 15 minutes ago, just as expected. Dr. Renji Abarai had not. And Shūhei Hisagi sat cross-legged in the middle of the tiny airport lounge, juggling.

Hisagi had been quieter than usual since they'd parted company with the fire-haired geologist. He had not reviewed their breakfast meeting, nor commented on his friend's sudden urge to leave the country with his uninvited visitors in tow. It was never a good sign when Hisagi grew quiet, but Byakuya could not fathom what bothered the brunet. Instead, he watched as Hisagi's phone joined the apple, two oranges, a box of matches and a bunch of keys in the air before Shūhei's face.

It wasn't the first time Byakuya had seen Hisagi juggle. The security specialist kept a jar of brightly coloured cloth balls on his desk and explained to all those who asked – patiently for the most part – that juggling kept him focussed while he was thinking. And while there were bets outstanding on the number of balls Hisagi could keep in the air at any one time, and the number of hours he could spend juggling without taking a break, most of Kuchiki Industries' employees had become used to small coloured balls moving in the air over Shūhei's desk.

When Hisagi joined his company, Byakuya had watched the man along with everyone else. Some days he seemed to do little more than toss the coloured spheres around while staring at the bank of windows with unfocussed eyes. Those were the times, when Byakuya had wondered just why Kensei Muguruma and Don Frazer had been so eager to hire the brunet with the strange tattoo.

Shūhei's phone shot up high into the air, and the Kuchiki remembered the day he'd first seen that move. Hisagi had been lying almost horizontal in his chair, juggling, when all of a sudden coloured balls spiked high before hitting the floor around his chair in a soft patter. Then computer screens flared to life and keyboard keys began to rattle like hailstones on a tin roof. Kensei burst out of his office as if summoned by a spell. Frazer arrived at a run carrying a laptop, bundles of cables, clips and other unidentified electronics. Whole groups of IT and CorpSec staff huddled in groups around workstations, examining readouts and talking in hushed, excited voices.

Shūhei Hisagi's desk was the hub in this wheel of frantic activity.

Over the next sixteen hours, Hisagi left his desk only to go to the bathroom. He spoke little, barely took his eyes from the four screens in front of him and just frowned when Kensei force-fed him hot chocolate and shortbread. At the end of those sixteen hours, though, Shūhei had located and isolated a security breach that had bothered Kuchiki Industries for more than three months. And he presented his findings in the most anticlimactic way possible – with four lines of writing on a post-it note.

Nobody in the room had thought to challenge Hisagi's findings. There was no argument, no debate, just a well-oiled machine swinging into remedial action. From that day forward, however, Byakuya had never questioned the younger man's ability to distil a coherent pattern from unconnected reams of data.

That Shūhei felt the need for focussed thought right now was a bad sign.

"Hisagi." Byakuya decided to rattle Shūhei's cage a little. "Dr. Abarai is late," he said when the younger man looked up at the tone of command in Byakuya's voice. "And _why_ are you...?" He waved a slim hand at the mix of objects spinning in the air.

Hisagi drew a deep breath and caught the items one by one. "Something is niggling at me," he admitted, not looking at the Kuchiki. "I can't pin down if it's something Renji said or something I saw and it doesn't fit anywhere yet, but..."

"Do you think Dr. Abarai is pulling out of the deal?"

Shūhei shook his head in emphatic denial. "He would have done that face to face."

"If he'd only decided while he was driving?"

"He would have come here, sir, and told you to your face. Along with his reasons." Shūhei stowed his phone and keys. He walked to where Byakuya sat and placed the fruit on the bench beside their bags.

"So you think he has reason."

"Something you said this morning bothered him," Shūhei replied simply. "But it's nothing to do with this particular itch in by brain. I'm sure of that."

Byakuya Kuchiki didn't argue. He knew how truly gifted Sosuke Aizen was when it came to creating elaborate games. He had the scars to prove it and so – after the latest game – did Shūhei Hisagi. Shūhei's hair had grown back into its customary spikes and he acted as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, but Byakuya knew that Shūhei sought out Retsu from time to time. He wouldn't risk missing anything.

"In that case, explain why Abarai would have a reason to pull out of this deal," Byakuya demanded. It irked him that he could have missed something so important. Something Hisagi had seen.

It was true that Kuchiki Industries didn't deal with freelance prospectors, but that didn't mean that Byakuya didn't keep an eye on the deals he was offered. The CEO of Kuchiki Industries had been impressed by Dr. Abarai's proposal. His research was flawless, the case was exceptionally well reasoned and the documentation was better than anything even the Kuchiki prospecting office produced – and given his rigid standards, that was saying something.

Finding that Hisagi knew the prospector had – at the time – seemed like exceptionally good fortune, a chance to smooth the way through the inevitable checks and examinations without ruffling feathers and a welcome shortcut to a speedy end to negotiations.

Meeting the redhead had been unexpectedly enjoyable for the reserved – sometimes even introverted - Kuchiki. He felt drawn to the mix of contradictions in the man's character. Abarai liked solitude, but handled the people around him with an easy-going friendliness that the Kuchiki had never been able to manage. He expressed his opinions, but didn't argue. He was observant and watchful, but relaxed enough to be good company. In short, Renji Abarai seemed one of those rare people who were so happy with their life that even a large lottery win would not change them. And he was pleasing to look at. After their dinner, Byakuya had assumed that he had the man's measure. Erroneously, as it was turning out.

"Renji is the best friend any man could have," Shūhei said as he took the bench opposite the Kuchiki and made himself comfortable. "It doesn't matter if it's the most dangerous or god-awful mess you'd got yourself into, he'll bust a gut to get you out. He had nobody while he grew up, so he takes friendships very seriously." A lopsided, crinkly-eyed grin graced Shūhei's face. "Remember how he described the village he stayed in? _They didn't have much, but they shared, looked after me_. To Renji, they'd feel like family. And after what happened, he'd feel he let them down."

"So when I implied he couldn't bring Aizen to justice or that he wasn't responsible for the way the find was worked..."

Hisagi nodded and Byakuya thought that he really should have paid better attention to the brief flashes of temper that managed to slip through Abarai's control. Maybe then, he wouldn't have jeopardised this deal. Just because they were as rare as hen's teeth didn't mean he could allow himself such slips of judgement, or ignore them when they happened. After all, if one of his employees misrepresented Kuchiki Industries in such a manner, they would not be working for him much longer.

"Hey, Renji!"

Shūhei's voice drew him from his thoughts. The brunet had the phone pressed to his ear and was speaking into it.

"Just in case you didn't notice, you're late! We're wondering if you got lost and need a map. Give me a buzz when you get this. Shuu out."

"He didn't pick up?"

"Voicemail. Probably no signal. That's not surprising with all these hills around." Hisagi's voice was calm, but his eyes scanned the Kuchiki's face in a way that made the raven nervous. Shūhei had a knack for reading men even when they tried to hide.

"Renji being late is not the issue, is it?" Shūhei said after a moment just as Byakuya had expected. Hisagi had a knack for coming straight to the point, too. "What's really bothering you?"

"It's starting to feel like another elaborate hoax." Byakuya hated it when his words sounded tired, almost defeated, when nothing could be further from the truth.

"What's making you think that?"

Byakuya ordered his thoughts. "Aizen would have studied you while he held you captive. He'd know that your greatest weakness is your loyalty to your friends."

Shūhei's sudden, blinding smile was disconcerting. He didn't consider loyalty a weakness. But Aizen would and clearly did. And even Byakuya, though he would never travel that particular road, could see ways in which Shūhei's loyalties could be manipulated.

"You always point out how rare coincidences really are," Byakuya said. "So can it be a coincidence that shortly after your escape the biggest mineral find in recent years is offered to Kuchiki Industries by _your best friend_? A friend, furthermore, who has crossed paths with Aizen and appears to be on bad terms with the man? And whom Aizen is having watched?"

Shūhei's eyes still glowed with amusement. "I'm not going to argue about strengths and weaknesses with you, sir. And Aizen may think what he wants. He'll be wrong either way." Shūhei pulled his feet up so he could sit cross-legged on the narrow bench resting his elbows on his knees and his chin on his folded hands.

"That Aizen's having Renji watched is a complication, I grant you. But probably one that would work in our favour more than Aizen's," Shūhei said slowly, thinking. "It's certainly not a coincidence that Renji brought his find to you. It's more or less a logical conclusion, given his history with Aizen."

There was that smile again, so full of genuine amusement that Byakuya felt irritated. "Would you care to explain how you arrive at that particular conclusion?" he asked, voice a little sharper than necessary, but not caring a whit.

"He told us so himself," Shūhei replied in his usual calm way. "He said that he offered his first find to you, because of your reputation, and that he only went to a broker – not Aizen directly – when you turned down his proposal. And after all that happened, he wants more control over the development of his finds. He won't get that if he engages a broker. His only chance at seeing the find developed the way he wants is to offer it to you."

"So far, we only have your gut instinct that Abarai's story is true," Byakuya said, unconvinced. "And we haven't ruled out that Aizen is pulling Abarai's strings."

"_Due diligence in business is a virtue not a vice_," Hisagi quoted Kuchiki doctrine with a grin. "I'm sure you'll have us verify every fact we're given twice over before you consider putting pen to paper. But going back to your initial proposition that it feels like a hoax: You've barely made contact with Abarai. You haven't invested anything in the find so far. What would Aizen, or Renji for that matter, gain by pulling out now?"

"I have left London. I am stuck in this airport lounge in the middle of nowhere."

"Now _that_ sounds more like it." Shūhei straightened up, reached for his phone and pressed a button. "A game of misdirection would fit Aizen's MO." He lifted the phone to his ear and smiled.

"Hey. All serene in old Blighty?" He listened for a moment, then nodded reassuringly at Byakuya. "Do me a favour and track Renji's mobile. He's not answering." Byakuya watched him shake his head at something Kensei said. "Nah, just playing a hunch."

"What hunch are you playing, Hisagi?" Byakuya queried when Shūhei closed the phone and stood, staring into mid air.

"Given his history, we're assuming that Aizen's after you personally, or after Kuchiki Industries. But what if he's after Renji? Or more to the point, his notes?"

Shūhei reached for his bag and pulled out a map, spreading it out just as his phone buzzed. He answered and listened, fingers caressing over the paper with little taps. "Halfway down? You're sure? Ok, ok – I believe you! Where, exactly?"

While Byakuya watched, Shūhei traced a line on the map, marked two likely spots and sat up. "Could you keep an eye and buzz me if he moves? Thanks. Shuu out."

"Care to enlighten me?"

"Renji's phone signal is stationary," Shūhei reported in a quiet monotone that sent dread fluttering along Byakuya's spine.

"Where?"

"About ten miles from where we separated."

"And?"

Shūhei drew a deep breath and squared his shoulders. "Kensei's located the signal half-way down a cliff," he explained. "That could be an error caused by the topography. Alternatively, Renji could have dropped his phone. Or he .. _is_.. actually halfway down that cliff."

"Well, we are clearly unable to determine which it is while we're standing here," Byakuya said and reached for his bag. "I'll tell the pilot to wait. You get the jeep. I'll meet you outside."

Shūhei didn't move. "I'm not sure that's wise, sir," he said quietly. "If Aizen _is_ in the mix, and Renji's the target, then sticking our noses in could make us very convenient collateral damage."

"Are you suggesting that we leave your friend in whatever predicament he is without even trying to assist?" Byakuya raised an eyebrow, not at all surprised to see a faint blush spread across Shūhei's cheekbones.

"Certainly not, sir. I am suggesting that you stay here while I go and check on Renji."

Byakuya pinned the brunet with a long hard look. "Good try, Hisagi," he said, while turned towards the door. "Need I remind you that after that stunt you pulled, you're as much a target as I am? It's best if we stick together."

Shūhei drove as if he tried to outrun a tornado. The tires sprayed grit and gravel in their wake and when the road turned Byakuya had to cling to the seat to keep the map in position on his lap and the gun case he'd fetched from the plane secure under his boots.

Shūhei barely slowed passing through the town and attacked the road leading up the side of the cliff at full throttle. Driving on the worn tarmac with its grooves and ruts while the sun sank and the light faded was trickier than navigating in broad daylight. Again and again, the Jeep's wheels hit potholes that made their teeth rattle and the car lurch across the road.

"Hisagi, we will not be able to assist your friend if you wreck the jeep," Byakuya commented exasperated after a particularly violent jolt and slew. "I suggest you moderate the speed. Now!"

It clearly irked the brunet, but the jeep slowed to a more reasonable speed and the ride evened out a little. They turned right at the top of the cliff, following the road that Renji had taken that morning. They drove straight into a blood red sunset, but the road was wide here and the edges well defined, so Shūhei sped up again. After six miles, though, that changed and Shūhei gritted his teeth.

"We're close," Byakuya stated, keeping one eye on the landmarks his mobile phone app pointed out and the other on the map.

Even in the fading light, the place of the accident was impossible to miss. Broad skid marks criss-crossed the road and deep furrows had been gauged into the road's soft verge in the place where a car had gone over the edge.

Shūhei pulled up and grabbed the gun and flashlight Byakuya held out to him. The dipping sun bathed the top portion of the cliff in a rosy glow, while shadows deepened over its lower reaches. They had little time to locate the redhead before it grew too dark. But fortunately, they knew where to look.

Even in the shadowed parts of the cliff, the scars in the creamy limestone were easy to make out, guiding them down to the Land Rover, which looked surprisingly intact. It lay on the passenger side surrounded by a heap of debris made up of broken sample crates, bagged rock samples and torn vegetation the car had collected on its slide down the hill.

There was no sign of Dr. Renji Abarai.


	5. Warning Shots

**Author's Note: **Right. After spending a couple of weeks with Kensei and Shuuhei in London, I'm now back in the sticks with Renji, Byakuya and Shuu. (That boy sure gets around!) This story is going places I never imagined. Still, I'm having fun writing it. Hope you have just as much fun reading.**  
**

Thank you very much to everyone who reviewed. It helps to know what you like in a story and what you don't - especially where characterisation is concerned. And if you feel Renji is a little ooc in this chapter, keep in mind he's not quite himself. Concussion does that to a man.

As usual, the boys are Kubo Tite's. I just borrow them for this crazy ride of mine.

* * *

**Chapter 5: Warning Shots**

_Thank the gods for limestone and running water_!

Renji leaned over the runnel of ice-cold water at the far end of the cave and splashed his face. The water cleared the cobwebs, though his head ached as if he'd just woken from a three-week bender without a single recollection of the party. Memory returned in fleeting pieces: a cap of silver hair against a bright blue sky, the shiver-inducing screech of abused metal, the unnatural tilt of the Land Rover as the wheels lost the road, grating and jolts and dust and... darkness.

He had woken some time later, hanging over the Land Rover's centre console. His head and left shoulder rested at a painful angle on the passenger seat, while the seatbelt cut into his side just under his ribs. He had managed to get the belt undone, just catching himself from falling across the seat in a heap. Staying still then became a matter of necessity more than instinct, at least until the unpleasant swimming in his head subsided.

Time slowed, passed and sped up again while Renji had gathered himself. His headache shrank to manageable proportions. The beginning itch of drying blood from a gash on his forehead explained his blurry vision and he blamed his dry, sore throat on the cloud of dust the car had been enveloped in on the slide down the hill.

Relieved that all his limbs were in reasonable working order, Renji had crawled from his mutilated car to survey the wreckage. The Land Rover lay on the passenger side. Its body was largely intact and surrounded by a moraine of brush, loose stones and limestone shavings. A waist-high outcropping of rock wedged into its undercarriage, arresting the slide downhill.

The brightness of sky and sun-baked limestone had restarted the drumbeat of fierce pain in Renji's temples and he squinted to study the evidence of the car's slide down the slope. From his angle, it looked as if someone had smashed a broom handle into an elaborately iced wedding cake. Not something that would be missed easily if someone came looking.

A hint of movement, right at the edge of the cliff, had Renji duck into the shelter of the wrecked car. The sudden shift in location had him gagging and his vision went hazy again for a stretch, but staying out of sight was instinct. Was Gin coming back to finish what he'd started?

For the longest time, Renji had crouched motionless between car and outcrop, listening to the small sounds of life that surrounded him. He could not detect anyone's approach in the rustling of leaves in the breeze, the buzzing of insects or the chirping of birds. Anxiety started to boil through his gut mixing with the nausea until he simply had to move, whether Gin was standing there pointing a gun at him or not.

That the hillside turned out bare but for plant life and insects had appeased his sudden paranoia for just a moment. Putting distance between himself and the car became an imperative Renji could not ignore. For once, he was grateful that he had not taken the time to unload the Land Rover immediately on his return. That meant his pack was in easy reach and so was his shotgun. He spared a glance for the results of the previous six weeks' work spread out across a patch of hillside, wondering how many of the samples were compromised beyond redemption, before he simply shelved that thought. The sampling plan was at the bottom of his backpack, along with his map and field notes. The samples could be replaced if needed. His head, once Gin got hold of it, could not.

Getting the pack settled on his shoulders had proved surprisingly difficult. The bend and lift magnified the pounding in his head, while twisting to slide his arms into the straps caused waves of dizziness. Renji had hung on to a wheel arch for support while dry heaves racked his body, further blurring his vision. When the nausea receded, he was left shaky, sweating and panting for breath.

Still, Renji was nothing if not stubborn and the urge to get away and hide had been stronger than headache or nausea. And now he was here, in this small cave in the lower third of the cliff, out of the glare of the sun and hidden from view. The entrance was narrow and not easy to find, and a miniature stream provided ice-cold fresh water. All in all, Renji concluded, his situation could be a lot worse.

The redhead had no occasion to investigate this particular area, since the cliff yielded nothing but calcite with traces of anhydrite in the lower reaches. Most prospectors would not have bothered with even a casual survey, but Renji Abarai loved exploring more than he needed money, so he'd spent time familiarising himself with the cliff. He'd not been back in over a year, and was chuffed that he remembered the location of the cave so precisely. At the very least, it gave him a chance of evading Gin.

He settled himself beside the small trickle of water, relieved when his headache settled right along with his body. Renji hated feeling sick. It reminded him of being weak and unable to defend himself. And the shit that could and did happen in those circumstances. His hand tightened on the gun by his side. He might be feeling as if someone had taken a hammer to his head and a crowbar to his side, but he wasn't helpless. He'd got out of the car and down the hill to this cave, hadn't he?

So there.

He must have drifted off, sitting there against the wall, because when the clattering of rocks rolling down the slope startled him, there was hardly enough light in the cave to see the entrance.

_Trust the bastards to wait until dark._

Renji pushed himself upright, using the wall for support when his vision blurred once more. His heart was beating fast enough to crack ribs, and his gut clenched in something very close to panic, but he stayed still and tired to keep his breath quieter than the noisy pant it wanted to be. Maybe a rabbit had disturbed some rocks; maybe he had dreamed the whole thing...

... or maybe somebody had come to find him.

He fired without thinking when a shadow moved across the cave's small entrance. The echoes of the shot assaulted his eardrums and the recoil pitched his body into the cave's wall. Renji's head hit the rock with a sickening crack that woke the slumbering headache. Stars lit his vision and he slid down the rough limestone until his backside met the uneven floor with a thump.

Renji couldn't tell if his shot had found a target or missed by a mile. But he knew that it wasn't a rabbit outside the small cave. The shadow passing then entrance had been man-sized.

A hissed "Down, keep your head down!" reached his ears, followed by an irate raised voice. "For fuck's sake, Renji! Shoot the opposition, not your allies."

It sounded like Shūhei. The redhead didn't dare relax his grip on the shotgun, but the torrent of invective that followed the outburst had him slump back in relief. There were no two people on the planet with this level of skill in the creative use of bad language.

"Shūhei?"

"Know anyone else who'd bother to come and save your sorry ass?"

"How do I know it's you?"

A blur teased the edge of Renji's vision and Shūhei's put-upon sigh echoed through the cave. "Because I can tell you which one of the _Ten Deadly Sins_ you don't enjoy."

His friend's voice sounded eerily close and then the shotgun was ripped from his hand before he could wonder where the other man had come from. A flashlight's bright beam roamed the walls of the cave and played over the slumped geologist.

"Ren, you're a mess."

"You're not kidding," the redhead mumbled as relief washed the tension from his frame and he unwound against the rock. "Did I hit anyone?"

"Were you trying to?"

A second flashlight joined the first and Renji closed his eyes against the glare that teased his headache into a frenzy. "Do you _mind _pointing that elsewhere?"

"Ah, here's the genial redhead I know so well."

Shūhei's quiet chuckle grounded Renji more than he wanted to admit. Shūhei was never helpless, and – as Renji had learned over the years – never without a means to defend himself. He was a good man to have at your back in a fight. And why had it not occurred to him that Shūhei would come looking?

The thought distracted the redhead and he barely noticed when a damp cloth wiped dried blood from his face, just before a warm hand cradled his jaw and turned his head to the light.

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

Renji squinted. "Enough to earn you a sore jaw," he groaned. "Really, Shūu, I would have thought you knew better."

"I do." The finger moved across Renji's field of vision, fast enough to make him gag.

"Shit!" Shūhei dropped his hands, fastening them on Renji's upper arms to ground him. "Take a slow, deep breath through your nose," he said and demonstrated, breathing with his friend until the nausea receded and Renji unclamped his teeth. "Better?"

"Hm." Renji took care to keep his head still while Shūhei's hands moved over his collarbones and shoulders before tracing down his torso.

"Nasty bruise under your ribs, but I don't think anything's broken," Shūhei decided finally and sat back on his heels. "Wanna tell me how you ended up here?"

"Would you believe that I got run off the road?"

"Depends," Shūhei's voice was quiet and serious. "Were you?"

Renji started to nod his head but caught himself just in time. "Big lorry caught up with me on the way out and started overtaking," he said slowly. "Drove really close. Thought the guy was in a hurry and being an idiot, but then he boxed me in."

"O...kay. Wanna share the punch line?"

Shūhei's intent, focussed gaze, so at odds with his relaxed posture, made Renji feel the need to check his fly and assure the man he'd washed behind his ears. He had never been able to keep secrets from Shūhei when they studied together – somehow Shūhei always _knew_ – and Shūhei's radar for missing information was still just as accurate as Renji remembered it.

"The truck had a passenger. I saw him just as I lost the road."

"Someone you knew?"

"Gin."

Renji winced at the defensive tone in his voice. He'd swear tooth and nail that he'd seen Gin, but he realised how unlikely it sounded. After all, how much does one _really_ remember from an accident? To his relief, Shūhei didn't scoff and didn't argue. He nodded as if Renji's revelation made perfect sense.

"I'll keep an eye out for visitors," Shūhei said. "But I'm a bit worried about your head, so it's best if you don't move and rest as much as possible while I do that."

Renji really didn't mind. Anything that kept the nausea and headache at bay was okay with him. He let his eyes drift closed, grateful for Shūhei's presence, when something occurred to him. "There's a stove in my pack," he managed, words barely audible, before sleep took him again.

* * *

Making close personal acquaintance with a load of buckshot had not been on Byakuya Kuchiki's itinerary for the day. And he was grateful for Hisagi's quick reflexes that had prevented potentially embarrassing injuries.

It had been Byakuya who had spotted the scuffmarks and small splatters of blood leading away from the crash site. And maybe the relief he had felt at his discovery had caused him to surge ahead of Hisagi when they found the small cave. The thought unsettled the quiet mining tycoon, until he recalled Hisagi's excessive use of speed on the way to the cliff and realised that concern could take many different forms.

The Kuchiki kept out of the way while Shūhei checked on his friend. He thought it a blessing that Dr. Abarai was conscious and aware, but Hisagi's eyes showed worry lines at the corners when he joined Byakuya after a few moments. Two years earlier, the Kuchiki would have missed those, but he knew the brunet a lot better these days.

"How is he?"

Shūhei drew a deep breath. "No bones broken," he answered and then fell silent.

Byakuya let a corner of his mouth turn up a fraction. "Have I ever given you the impression I need coddling, Hisagi?"

The quirk of lip was returned. "No, sir. But I know how you hate delays." He shrugged. "Renji shows signs of a concussion – nausea, disturbed vision, sensitivity to light. We're lucky he's lucid and not tossing up his cookies, but even so... I don't want to drag him up that cliff tonight. Especially given the way he came down it."

"Will his condition improve if he rests?"

"It should. He might still have a headache, but his vision should settle along with this stomach."

"Then we'll stay here," the Kuchiki decided. "You're not expecting trouble overnight, are you?"

Shūhei glanced towards the back of the cave, where Renji's brawny shape leaned against the wall, barely visible in the gloom. His shoulders tensed and Byakuya identified the growing frown on the brunet's face as the one that had Kensei Muguruma reach for body armour and the keys to the weapons locker.

"I had not _expected_ any of this shit, sir." The low voice was husky with anger. "But Renji says he was run off the road and that he saw Gin in the truck. So the only thing I'm not expecting tonight is everlasting peace." He scrubbed a hand through his hair, making the spikes stand up in a worried shock. "Are you okay staying with Ren for a bit? I need to take a look around outside."

_Provide a few nasty surprises_... was only one of the unspoken comments Byakuya heard in Hisagi's tone, but he refrained from making a comment. Hisagi was doing his job, after all. "It's fine," he replied instead. "I'll keep an eye on Dr. Abarai."

"There should be a stove in his pack," Shūhei said softly as he collected his gun and handed his flashlight to Byakuya. "And maybe a sleeping bag. Wake him periodically. He can drink tea if he wants, but don't give him any food just yet. I'll be a couple of hours, tops."

He slid out of the cave before Byakuya had a chance to nod, his movements already adapted to stealth and speed. The raven-haired mining tycoon stood in silence for a time, contemplating what might have happened to the geologist had they not decided to go looking for him, but then dismissed the thought as irrelevant. They had gone looking, they were here... and the redhead would really be more comfortable stretched out on a blanket.

Dr. Abarai's pack proved to be a treasure trove. Not only did he carry a stove, a sleeping bag and a lantern, which would allow them to save the batteries in the flashlights, but also tea, granola bars and even a few dehydrated meal pouches. By the looks of it, the redheaded geologist was either very fond of beef stew and Spaghetti Bolognese... or he hated them with a passion and had eaten all his other supplies first.

Byakuya spread out the sleeping bag beside the dozing man and filled the kettle with water to make tea, while he wondered if Hisagi knew the answer to that question. It wasn't something the polite man would ever ask directly – it would feel too much like prying into Abarai's private life. But Hisagi's reference to that monstrous breakfast served at Simpson's indicated that he knew at least something of Abarai's food preferences.

"Dr. Abarai," Byakuya shook the man gently until the deep brown eyes opened. "You should try and drink some tea."

Renji straightened without complaint and even lifted a hand to push the tangled red strands from his face. His movements seemed much more co-ordinated than the ones Byakuya had observed earlier. He accepted the mug of tea and carefully inhaled the steam before he set it to his lips.

"Where is Shūhei?" he asked after the first careful sips.

"Keeping an eye on things outside."

The redhead digested that, but didn't ask any further questions. His eyelids started to droop again once the mug was empty and he didn't argue when Byakuya suggested he lay down to rest.

"Sorry 'bout that shot," he said, not looking at the Kuchiki. "I wasn't thinking. A noise startled me awake and then there was a shadow, as if someone was outside the cave and..."

"Please, Dr. Abarai... there's no need for apologies." Byakuya tried to calm the growing agitation in the geologist's voice, though he couldn't fathom its reason. The man had only tried to defend himself. Why would he apologise for that?

"How did you even find me?"

"How could we not find you?" The raven leaned his back against the wall and clasped his hands around an upturned knee. "You left a trail a blind child could have followed."

"I did?"

Byakuya indicated the dusty, scraped knees of Renji's khakis. "You didn't even notice when you fell, did you?" he asked softly. The answer was obvious in the silence, and soon after, Renji was asleep again.

The cave was quiet and so was the deepening night outside. And while Byakuya knew that Hisagi had to be in the vicinity of the cave, he could not hear a single sound betraying the man's presence. At first Byakuya passed the time by trying to make out colours and shapes in the gloom of the cave, but eventually he lit the lantern and studied his sleeping companion instead.

The geologist was an enticing canvas of crimson, gold and black. Though in the soft glow of the lantern, the crimson mane took on a copper tone and pooled like molten metal around the sleeping form. Renji Abarai's face – tanned to an appealing shade of gold – changed too, and he looked younger and more vulnerable than he did while awake, especially with the gash marring his forehead and the bruise darkening around it. Byakuya noted the small, previously overlooked, spatter of freckles across the bridge of the man's nose and allowed himself a tiny smile when his mind found them boyishly endearing. He was sure that Abarai awake and upright would scoff at any notion of boyishness.

The deep black lines of the tribal tattoos that snaked their way from the redhead's ears down his neck were the next feature to snare Byakuya's gaze. Previously, he'd only caught glimpses – through strands of copper hair, at the flip of a shirt collar – while now he had a chance to study the design more closely. He tried to imagine the countless hours – not to mention discomfort – the markings must have taken and wondered about their significance. Bold, like the redhead himself, but at the same time unexpected, they hinted at deeper currents beneath the competent and professional facade, just as Hisagi's comments had done at the airport.

Byakuya watched and wondered until a quiver of lashes alerted him to the redhead's awakening. He was grateful for the small warning. Being caught staring would have been awkward.

His charge was more himself when he woke, sitting up unaided and without flinching, and even wondering about food.

"Hisagi tells me that you can drink tea, but shouldn't try to eat," Byakuya answered the query. "He thinks you have a concussion."

"And, of course, _Doctor _Hisagi would know what one looks like...," Renji started when the man under discussion suddenly slipped into the cave like a breeze of air.

"Hey! We could have shot you!" Renji burst out.

Shūhei looked pointedly at the two guns across the cave from Renji and Byakuya. "Wanna demonstrate?" He handed his rifle to Byakuya and went to retrieve the other two weapons, bringing them closer to the stove.

"I've been thinking about this mess we got ourselves into," he said as he accepted a mug of tea from Byakuya with a nod of thanks. "And I think we have it backwards. Given past events, we're always assuming that Aizen might be after you, but Kuchiki Industries is perfectly able to function without its CEO. If they have got wind of Renji's find, though, and get him, then they have the deposit."

He looked at the redhead. "Where are all your notes and papers?"

"Where they won't think to look," Renji said. "And even if they did get me, I won't tell them."

"Stop being an ass, Renji," Shūhei cut in. "You told us yourself that Aizen isn't too particular about how he acquires what he wants. And if it's true that his company has links to the mob, do you really think he lacks a few willing thugs to extract information? If he gets his hands on you, he'll make you tell him everything he needs to know."

"And since he'd most likely dispose of all evidence of his misdoings, he wouldn't even have to pay you your share of the find." Byakuya Kuchiki commented dispassionately.

"That doesn't work, Shūhei," Renji disagreed, ignoring suggestions of capture and torture in favour of logic and reason. "Maybe Gin thought I'd found a lode because you turned up here, but nobody knew we were going to fly to London! He couldn't have planned to abduct me... or whatever... he had no idea where I'd be."

"Unless he listened to our conversation."

"He couldn't have...," Renji's voice trailed off and came back sounding small and disbelieving. "Could he?"

"We didn't guard the cars," Shūhei said simply. "I grant you that he couldn't have known where you'd be. I guess he was caught out and had to improvise. Which is why it turned into such a mess."

"Do you think they will make another attempt when they see that Dr. Abarai is still alive?"

Shūhei ran the odds once more. "I don't think they were trying to kill you," he said, looking at Renji.

"You may be right," Renji said slowly. "If they really wanted me out of the way, they would have checked that I was dead once the car had crashed." He rubbed at his aching head and drank some more tea.

"I think they're making sure you don't get itchy feet. All the accident was meant to do was shake you up, so you'd stay put where that waiter friend of yours can keep an eye on you."

"Then he succeeded."

"For the moment." Shūhei set his empty mug down and stretched. "Try to get some more sleep. Tomorrow, we'll get you out of here."

"What if they'll find us here?"

"Don't worry about it. You get the sleep you need, we keep watch."

Renji stretched out on the sleeping bag without further comment and Byakuya marvelled at the redhead's trust as much as at the authority in Shūhei's tone. It was easy to forget that the quiet brunet was an extremely competent leader of men.

"Will you let me share watches with you?" the Kuchiki asked quietly.

"Take the first couple of hours," Shūhei replied equally quietly. "Keep the rifle close and wake me if anything – anything at all – strikes you as odd." He turned away, but came back almost at once. "And don't go outside. I've set traps around the cave."

Hisagi stretched out beside the entrance to the cave and was asleep in moments, his breathing turning deep and regular almost at once. The redhead dropped off soon after, and Byakuya turned the lantern down and sat quietly in the darkness, watching time being divided into segments by the luminous hands of his watch.

Hisagi slept like the dead as soon as he hit the ground, but – by the same token – he was awake at the slightest sound. And the man's built-in alarm was as accurate as a metronome. They traded watches throughout the night, but not once did the mining tycoon need to wake the brunet. Hisagi came awake like clockwork, as promptly as he fell asleep. And more than once during the quiet hours, Byakuya wished he could do the same.

Grey light began to filter into the cave and Byakuya was struggling to keep his eyes open as the younger man suddenly rolled to his feet – wide-awake and the gun held ready – for no apparent reason. There had been no discernible sound, and Hisagi wasn't due to wake for another forty-two minutes. Byakuya had no idea what had woken the man, but he waited with bated breath, taking his cues from the brunet.

After a moment, Hisagi relaxed his shoulders and dropped the nose of the rifle. "Someone's nosing around the crash site," he said softly.

~*~ TBC ~*~

_**A/N:** That's it for today. Stay out of the cold, everyone and remember: reviews keep me writing!_


	6. A Prelude to Games

**Author's Note: **I've just noticed the posting date on Chapter 5 and I am not sure if I should bemoan how time flies, simply hide under the desk in embarrassment or atone by posting an extra long chapter to make up for the long delay between updates!

I've not been idle, really!, but have been writing a lot of KenShuu trying to cover the two-year gap between Job Hunt and Prospects. Aaaaand I'm still having to deal with a non-cooperative mining tycoon. I'm not really happy with the way Byakuya is working out, but hey... Many thanks to the wonderful Ichibanseiken for her assistance in coaxing the Kuchiki out of his shell. One day, I might actually get it right.

As usual, I've borrowed characters I do not own (shame that!) to play with my plot bunnies. And I very much hope you enjoy their antics...

* * *

**A Prelude to Games**

_"Someone's nosing around the crash site," Shūhei said softly._

"How do you know?" Byakuya had wondered about Shūhei's activities the previous night, but had not wanted to agitate the injured geologist by asking searching questions that required lengthy explanations. "I didn't realise you had brought any equipment."

"Only my field kit. And I used that last night to set beacons. Someone tripped the one near Renji's car."

"What do you recommend we do now?"

Instead of a reply, Shūhei leaned over the sleeping redhead and wrapped his hand around the man's throat, pressing down lightly with the edge of his palm. "Ren, wake up."

Abarai's body went tense and still, then the brown eyes blinked open. "What is it?"

"Take a few deep breaths," Shūhei instructed. "Then sit up, but move slowly."

"Got it." The geologist closed his eyes again and breathed as told.

Byakuya moved alongside to assist, but Renji shifted upright easily and seemed stable when he reached vertical. He was what Byakuya's grandfather would have called 'a sight.' Tangles of coppery hair framed a dust-smeared face with a prominent bruise around a blood-crusted gash. Byakuya's eyes dropped to check for equally bruised knuckles, before he caught himself and discarded the stray memory. Only for his gaze to land on dusty khakis with badly scraped knees and his mind to turn to a possible concussion and broken ribs.

"How do you feel, Dr. Abarai?"

"Okay, I 'spose," Renji huffed and raised both hands to push the hair out of his eyes while he took stock. He stretched until his back popped and twisted his torso from side to side, avoiding sudden movements. "Most of the headache is gone," he pronounced finally. "Starving, though."

"Are you fit to travel?"

"Sure." The redheaded geologist looked from Shūhei to Byakuya and back. "Now that we've established that I won't break, will you tell me what's going on?"

"Your Land Rover has visitors."

"That early in the morning? Sneaky bastards. Think they don't wanna be seen?"

The enthusiasm in Abarai's voice was as unexpected as Hisagi's smirk. Neither made much sense to Byakuya's tired mind. If the geologist was convinced that he'd been run off the road, shouldn't he be wary of anyone creeping around the wreck of his car? And what in that whole scenario could possibly amuse Hisagi? Byakuya scrubbed the heels of his hands across his gritty eyes when Hisagi's caustic response met his ears.

"Maybe they're sweet on your kit."

"There isn't much _kit_ in the truck. Laptop's in the hotel safe, my gun and pack are here. They're welcome to a few crates of rock if they're that desperate."

"Your pack contains all the home comforts you take with you into the field?" The comment slipped out before Byakuya could censor himself. He found it hard to imagine that Renji Abarai spent six weeks mapping with little more than a sleeping bag, stove and a handful of tools. But he hadn't meant to say so. Fortunately, the redhead took the question in stride before Byakuya was required to compose an apology.

"Pretty much, yeah," he said. "I've got a tent and table and chair in the car, but most of the time, I don't use them. It's just as easy to stretch a tarp out from the back of the truck and use that for a makeshift tent. Only things I'd really hate to lose are my hammer and my maps. Oh, and the GPS... makes things so much easier."

The geologist truly was like an onion. Every time the Kuchiki thought he had the man's measure, Abarai opened his mouth and revealed another layer. An image of Shūhei Hisagi juggling swam through Byakuya's mind. There was clearly a reason why the two men were friends. The brunet security specialist was just as difficult to fathom. Layers upon layers, masks upon masks. Though given Shūhei Hisagi's background, training and experience, the inscrutable poker face was expected. Finding such depths in the expressive and apparently sociable geologist was not.

Renji had pushed himself slowly upright while he spoke, wincing just a tiny bit when his weight landed on his left knee. Once he was on his feet, he made a beeline for the cave's exit, only to have Hisagi block his way. The redhead looked incredulous. "What? You think I can't take a piss without you holding my hand?"

Shūhei smirked, but didn't move out of the way. "Remember Declan?"

"You crazy dipshit!" Renji exploded without warning and to Byakuya's complete consternation. "You're a few cogs short of a clockwork! What if I'd gone out at night?"

"Without me noticing? Right."

Having observed Shūhei at work, Byakuya had to agree with that assessment. Shūhei slept like a cat and as soon as his eyes opened he was totally alert – a trait Byakuya wished he could emulate. He'd had trouble settling when he wasn't on watch, laying awake and trying desperately not to fidget. This morning, his eyes felt gritty and his mind sluggish enough to–

"Coffee! I'd kill for coffee!"

"Quite," Byakuya agreed with the outburst, though it confused him to see Renji retreat from the glowering brunet, hands up and palms facing forward. What had he just missed? Hisagi ducked out of the cave with a curt "Stay inside!" when something else occurred to the Kuchiki. "Who is Declan?" he asked, only to have the redhead's face split into a grin.

"Irish goon who studied with us," Renji replied and sat down next to the mining tycoon, still grinning. "Loved to go drinking, but couldn't be bothered to get up to class in the morning. One day he decided to sneak into our rooms and copy Shūhei's notes. At least, I suppose he was planning to copy them."

"And?" the Kuchiki prompted when Renji leaned back against the wall, eyes distant and amusement plain, and didn't continue with the story.

"Oh, he was hanging upside down from the ceiling when we came home, covered in red and blue ink," Renji chuckled. "Swore a blue streak, but never once came within ten yards of Shūhei's stuff for the rest of our time."

Byakuya had no problems imagining the intruder's predicament. Hisagi _was_ a dab hand at setting traps and it soothed the Kuchiki's ego that he wasn't the only one to be caught... even though Kensei had already made that point. Several times.

"Did you sleep at all last night?"

Byakuya Kuchiki jerked upright at the voice, to find a mug of steaming liquid thrust under his nose.

"Taste isn't much to write home about, I'm afraid, but it's got enough caffeine to wake a horse," Renji Abarai opined, taking a sip from his own mug.

"Did I fall asleep?" Byakuya asked.

"Looked like it. You were sharing watches with Shūhei, weren't you?"

"Hm."

"I can't do it either," the redhead confided. "Drop off to sleep like Shuu does. Bugged the hell out of me when I was younger. He could even sleep in class... _and_ answer questions when the prof called him."

"Must be his army training," Byakuya surmised, glad when the caffeine started to clear his mind and the coffee's warmth chased the shivers from his frame. He had almost returned to his customary stoicism when Shūhei slipped back into the cave and came to stand beside the two men.

"It's Gin, alright." Shūhei's tone was all business. He placed the rifle on the ground and accepted the mug Renji filled and held out to him. "He's got two men with him, a jeep, a recovery truck and plenty of rope."

"They're not putting their dirty paws on my car!"

"Stop that!" The words were an order, reinforced by a hand pressed flat to Renji's chest. "Your crazy baboon routine won't get you anywhere but the local hospital... if there is such a thing. Now sit down and listen."

The brunet's voice was firm and level. A commander's voice. And just as he had the night before, the geologist did as he was told.

xxX oOo Xxx

Shūhei gulped the hot coffee, grateful Renji had remembered the three sugars he took in his first cup of the morning unless he was home. He hated sweet coffee, but since he often skipped breakfast the sugar kept him going. And after a night of little sleep, keeping watch and keeping an eye on his boss keeping watch, he needed the boost.

Not that he'd admit that under torture, of course. Or comment on the fact that said boss had done a surprisingly good job sharing watches throughout the night. Byakuya hadn't slept much, but he had been alert every time Shūhei checked, and it had surprised the brunet just a little.

Right now, though, the man looked like he could use a few hours of shut-eye. And that was exactly what Shūhei was planning to provide, right along with medical attention for Renji.

So far, the redhead appeared as belligerent as ever, moving with his usual fluid grace, imbibing coffee and complaining about the shocking lack of breakfast. Shūhei had seen too many head injuries to be complacent, though. Delayed reactions could lay waste to the most careful plans. And Shūhei hadn't forgotten the bruise across Renji's lower ribs.

"Earth to Shūhei, are you with us?"

"Perfectly, thank you," Shūhei drained the mug and twirled it in his fingers. He knew what needed to be done, but it didn't hurt to check once more. Patterns, motivations and timetables wound through his mind in a never ending stream. Gin with his helpers on the hillside, Renji injured, two rifles and a shotgun, Kensei in London, UPS delivery schedules, the dark circles under Byakuya's eyes and the tired slump to his shoulders, diplomatic pouches, mineral finds, Aizen, trip wires, deceptions and the need to delay...

"Right," he said finally and sat down. "First priority is to get the two of you out of here. Then I'll find out what we need to know."

Shūhei's neck grew uncomfortably hot at the mining tycoon's sudden glare. "We were not expecting a confrontation," he insisted, aware of how much Byakuya hated not being in control of a situation. The man was very much like Kensei that way. "We're not equipped for confrontation. Therefore, your safety _is_ the first priority." Shūhei offered a shrug and a small grin. "I didn't make the orders."

"You just stick to them," Byakuya replied very quietly, but the stiff set of his shoulders eased a little. A few deep breaths seemed to get him over his aversion of being protected and he caught Shūhei's gaze and nodded. "Very well, Hisagi. Continue."

"Right, here's the script," Shūhei began. "Renji, you've had an accident. Some idiot ran you off the road. You were unconscious and when you woke you called me. We came to find you. You are concussed and we suspect you have some broken ribs. You can't move very well, you feel like shit and you're endlessly grateful for people coming to help."

Brown eyes snapped to his, bright with fury.

"Shut up," Shūhei ordered before the redhead had taken a good breath. "He wants you pinned, so we give him what he wants. And you _will_ play along," Shūhei grinned into Renji's heated glare, "or I'll make sure your injuries are genuine. And then you _will_ feel like shit."

The glare cooled to a sheepish grin and Shūhei turned his head to focus on Byakuya. "You, sir, are worried about Ren's injuries and want to get him medical attention as soon as possible. Hence, the two of you will take the Jeep and return to the hotel."

"Which leaves you to...?"

"Show our gratitude and help Gin recover Ren's Land Rover, of course," Shūhei stated bluntly.

"Do you think that's wise?"

"Very. As long as we don't know what we're facing, we're in danger. I have to find out who we're up against."

"Surely we know that," Renji disagreed. "We're up against Aizen."

"Not necessarily," Shūhei replied. "You said Gin's the local go to man. He could be acting on behalf of someone else you've pissed off."

He waited for shouts of hot denial, but Renji stayed quiet and considered Shūhei's words.

"I want you to keep out of Gin's way and let me do the talking." Shūhei turned to face Byakuya and ran down his mental checklist. "Make sure to act surprised when you catch sight of Gin's posse. I don't want them to think we kept eyes on the car. We'll pretend to consult about our options and then you'll get in the Jeep and drive back to the hotel. Make sure Renji is seen when you check in and ask reception to call the doctor rather than calling him yourself. Try to get rooms next to Renji's. Put your phones on charge as soon as you're in your room and check in with Kensei every hour, just to be safe. He's sending a courier down, due this afternoon. He's using UPS."

"Do we need more weapons?"

"They'll be in the diplomatic pouch and take a day or so longer. Right now, Kensei's restocking my field kit." Shūhei rose and wet his fingers in the little stream, before brushing them through the loose dust on the cave's floor. "Hold still," he instructed as he moved to Renji's side. Renji obediently raised his face and Shūhei wiped his wet, dust-covered hands down his cheeks, over his brow and down the long copper strands. He washed his hands clear of dust and repeated the procedure – until Renji looked as if a total amateur had made a stab at cleaning up his injuries.

"It will start to itch in a few, but keep with it until you're in the car and out of sight."

Renji just nodded and grabbed Shūhei's outstretched hand, letting himself be hauled to his feet. Shūhei watched closely, still concerned about the head injury, but Renji didn't exhibit any signs of nausea or lack of co-ordination.

"Seems we're in luck," Byakuya's quiet voice came from beside him and Shūhei nodded.

"Small mercies and a very hard head," Renji quipped. "What do you want me to do with my pack and shotgun? If I'm all pathetic an' shit?"

"Give 'em to me." Shūhei slung Renji's backpack over his shoulders, keeping his own, smaller pack in front of him. The shotgun went over his left shoulder and his right hand gripped the rifle. "Give me five to dismantle the trap outside and then follow me. Remember, you're hurt and moving is difficult and painful."

The light was steadily improving when Shūhei emerged from the cave. He kept quiet for a few heartbeats, simply breathing and letting his ears and eyes adjust. The rising sun bathed the hillside in a soft pink glow. The air was still and fresh and without the edge of heat it would acquire later.

The clear wire stretched in an invisible line across the approach to the cave. Shūhei bent and unhooked the makeshift trigger, carefully gathering up the small collection of razorblades and paintballs. While the beacons he'd set around Renji's car were electronic, the trap at the entrance of the cave was mechanical and designed to make any would-be intruder look as if he'd been attacked by a malevolent rainbow or a psychotic clown. And while the garish colours appeared to wash off, they left a stain that was brightly visible under ultraviolet light, marking the perpetrator for several weeks.

Kensei called Shūhei's traps juvenile, and the brunet never argued. After all, most of his non-lethal traps dated from a time when humiliating an opponent had been just as important as incapacitating him. The morale boost alone had been worth the effort, and Shūhei had designed and tested diligently until his traps fulfilled both tasks with ruthless efficiency.

He coiled the wire carefully, remembering some of his more spectacular results, when Renji and Byakuya slipped from the cave and approached carefully.

"All set?" Shūhei asked rhetorically as the two men drew alongside. "Don't forget, we're mostly harmless. So keep it down and don't react to any provocation."

Heads turned as soon as they came into view, Byakuya supporting a stumbling Renji and Shūhei on point. The pale-haired man who was Shūhei's primary target straightened up from his perusal of the ground near the Land Rover's final resting place. He was slight, to the point of qualifying for skinny, but he moved with a fluidity Shūhei recognised. Combat trained. Shūhei made a hand sign urging utmost caution, knowing that Byakuya would take note, and continued to move uphill, shoulders forward and boots scuffing the rock in apparent eagerness.

"And aren' you a sight to behold!" Gin exclaimed as soon as Shūhei was close enough to hear. The man smiled, but he kept his lashes lowered, veiling his eyes from Shūhei's scrutiny. "We were wonderin' what had happened to our Dr. Abarai."

"Kind of you to come and check," Shūhei deadpanned, faking a grin of his own. "We were waiting to meet with him when he called to say there'd been a _problem_."

"That sounds like the good doctor, doesn' it? Revealin' bare bones, concealin' details and stubbornly refusin' help."

"He's hardly in a position to refuse help."

Gin's gaze slipped from Shūhei's and focussed on a point behind him. "Is he badly hurt?"

"Dunno." Shūhei turned and watched Byakuya help Renji up the slope, Gin's face just at the edge of his peripheral vision. The two men made a striking picture: backlit by the rising sun, the geologist's lanky frame draped over the slighter Kuchiki, crimson hair mingling with raven black. Neither man was a particularly good actor, but Shūhei had to concede that they looked convincing enough. And by the smug smirk on his face, Gin thought so, too.

"He's conscious," Shūhei resumed the conversation and turned back to face the silver haired man. "Says he feels sick and headachy, so maybe he's concussed. The boss wants to get him to town and a doctor asap. Were you planning on hauling the car up? I could stay help."

"No love for hospitals, Mr..?"

"Hisagi. Shūhei Hisagi. And no – none at all. I prefer my friends vertical."

"Then I'll be grateful for your assistance."

"Excellent." Shūhei span and scrambled back down the hill to intercept Byakuya and Renji. "Let's get you to the Jeep and out of here," he said very quietly when he reached them.

"I really wanna smash.."

"Shh. Keep your hat on. He's watching," Shūhei cautioned, though Renji had kept his growl firmly in the back of his throat. "I'm staying to help recover the Land Rover, sir," he continued in a normal tone. "I will meet you at the hotel."

"Very well," Byakuya agreed. "Take Dr. Abarai's other arm."

Gin's men didn't come near them on their way up the slope, but Gin tracked their progress from a distance. Shūhei filed his observations and focussed on the redhead between them. Renji's temper was sizzling and Shūhei couldn't blame him. Ren hated showing weakness. And having to look badly shaken and barely able to walk in front of the man who had run him off the road was not sitting well with him. Still, the redhead stuck doggedly to the script, even though he mumbled a near constant stream of profanities under his breath[KP1] .

Shūhei slowed a little and managed a stumble, as if he wasn't used to carrying weights or dragging incapacitated friends around, while remembering chilly autumn nights when he and Renji had returned home from parties much less stable on their feet.

"'s not funny," Renji snapped when one recollection managed to evoke a chuckle.

"Remember that costume party at the medical school?"

The redhead snorted. "Yeah. You were almost arrested for soliciting and I had to save your ass."

"Because you were in so much better shape, of course. You couldn't walk in a straight line if your life depended on it."

"Oh, and you could? In those heels?"

"Children." Byakuya's voice cut across their bickering, loud enough to carry, and Shūhei shot him an approving grin.

"Keep your laptop and notes in sight at all times and pack a bag," Shūhei reminded as he opened the passenger door of the Jeep for Renji to climb in. He handed the shotgun over, then shrugged Renji's pack off his shoulders and slung it into the back seat. "Make sure you drink. Water, not beer. And get as much rest as you can."

"Yes, Mother. No, Mother. I got it the first time," Renji grumbled. "Can I get that crap off my face now?"

Byakuya pulled a box of wipes from the glove box and held it out to the redhead. "Watch out for yourself, Hisagi. Don't underestimate the man. And call if anything happens."

"Will do." Shūhei slammed the passenger door and walked around the Jeep to stand beside Byakuya's open window. "Make sure the doctor checks for broken ribs as well as concussion," he reminded in a low voice. "Stay together and check in with Kensei every hour."

He raised a hand in a short salute, and watched until the Jeep's tail lights disappeared in the distance.

xxX oOo Xxx

Gin was back in his crouch, eyes on the ground when Shūhei rejoined him. "Watcha reckon he wants with all this stuff?" he asked, indicating the carpet of plastic sampling bags.

Shūhei knelt and randomly selected one of the small bags. It contained a flattish piece of dark grey rock the size of his thumb that didn't look any different from the small pieces of rock in the other sample bags. A code of letters and numbers scrawled in biro was the only thing distinguishing the sample in Shūhei's hand from the collection on the ground.

"No idea. For all I know, he boils them for soup." His hand riffled through the layer of bags. "They look all the same to me."

"You're no geologist?"

"Me? Sorry, but rocks just don't do it for me."

"What does?"

"Finance." Shūhei was familiar with the dance. No, scratch that. He was an expert. He planned more often than he improvised. But when intuition prodded him, he played. Even if he had no idea why posing as Byakuya Kuchiki's PA might be a good idea.

"You're an accountant."

"Accountants do taxes," Shūhei said dismissively as he rose. He stretched, aware of Gin's eyes on him, and played it up. "I'm in acquisitions. I buy."

"Minerals?"

"Nah," even Kensei couldn't have found fault with the sincerity of Shūhei's soft, indulgent chuckle. "This is pleasure, not business. The boss wanted to get in some hunting."

"I wasn' aware that redheads were in season."

"Wrong again. The redhead's my treat. I went to school with Ren and haven't seen him in years."

Together, the two started to collect the sample bags and replace them in the open crate they had spilled from. There were a lot more than Shūhei had first thought, and handling the evidence of Renji's industriousness amused him. He had no real idea what he was looking at, and only a vague idea of Renji's plans for the samples, but he liked the idea of keeping at least some of his friend's labours from going to waste.

"Your meetin' must have been fate, seein' that you rescued him," Gin resumed the conversation when the crate was almost filled.

"Hm. How did you come to be here?"

Gin sat back on his heels, smirk still firmly in place. "Ya know, I'm a man who listens to rumours. An' in a little town like ours, rumours run fast."

"There was a rumour about the crash?"

"One of the truckers said he saw skid marks like a car had gone off the road, ya know? Then I heard that Dr. Abarai hadn' returned to the hotel... and he doesn' do that when he's jus' back from a trip. So we came up to have a look-see."

Shūhei pondered the fact that Gin had bothered to bring men and a recovery truck on his 'look-see' while they wedged the lid back on the crate and started to fill the next one. The man whistled slightly off-key while he worked, asking the odd question every now and then. Shūhei answered each one, quietly impressed. Gin might look like a skinny runt and grin like a demented fox, but his intuition was as keen as a steel trap. Shūhei hadn't enjoyed himself so much in years.

After only a couple of hours they had the samples crated and the Land Rover upright, returned to the side of the road and loaded onto the recovery truck. Renji's car looked rather battered around the edges, but one of the men with Gin – owner of the local garage and the recovery truck – was adamant that the car would be good as new in no time at all.

Shūhei's intuition prodded him once more as they drove into town and passed the small park.

"Does the town have a camping store?" he asked and answered Gin's raised eyebrow with a story he'd known nothing about two minutes earlier. "We spent the last week at a conference and the hunting trip was a spur of the moment thing. I could really do with a few provisions."

To his quiet delight, Gin went with the program. Instead of taking Shūhei to the hotel, he turned off the main road and into a side street. "Let me take you shoppin' Hisagi."

xxX oOo Xxx

Renji hadn't realised he'd fallen asleep until the touch of cool hands – one on his forehead and one on his cheek – returned him to the present. He recognised the hotel's courtyard car park, the empty space to his left where he usually parked his Land Rover.

"How do you feel, Dr. Abarai?" Byakuya Kuchiki had driven them back to town, gotten out of the driver's seat, walked around the Jeep and opened the passenger door... all without Renji being aware. The redhead supposed the man had a right to ask.

"Must be tired," he conceded with a small grin.

"Can you keep to the plan for just a few more minutes?"

"Sure." The geologist climbed out of the car while the Kuchiki pulled Renji's pack from the backseat and slung it over one shoulder.

Renji hadn't planned on providing the same performance he'd given on the hillside. He straightened up and used his shotgun as a makeshift crutch, pleased when his companion didn't complain. The hotel staff clucked over him as expected, but between Renji's bedraggled look and Byakuya Kuchiki's quiet requests, they secured rooms either side of Renji's without any problems.

"And I don't need a doctor!" Renji groused, as soon as Byakuya ended his second call to his security chief.

"I'm with Hisagi on that one, Dr. Abarai," the mining tycoon stated in an even voice. "Head injuries are no laughing matter."

"I'm not laughing. I just don't see why you can't accept that I'm fine."

"Has it occurred to you that calling the doctor will add credibility to our story?"

Renji stopped mid-rant and stared. Shūhei believed that Gin had merely wanted to pin him down. Calling the doctor to the hotel would confirm Renji's injuries. It might even get Gin off their backs.

"Fine," he slumped in defeat. "You're right. Call the doctor. But can I at least take a shower?"

Byakuya Kuchiki didn't laugh at Renji's whiny tone the way Shūhei would have. But his lips curled up at the corners in what had to pass for amusement. "I'm sure the doctor will be able to assess your injuries even if they're not covered by dust."

xxX oOo Xxx

The doctor had pronounced Renji mildly concussed and bruised but otherwise undamaged and had ordered rest and a mild sedative. While Renji slept, the Kuchiki had been busy. He had recharged every electrical item they carried and had retrieved Renji's laptop and notes from the hotel safe. He had taken delivery of the articles sent by Kensei and conferred with the pilot of the Kuchiki company jet. He'd helped Renji pack a bag, fed him lunch and was currently seated on Renji's sofa reading a stratigraphy of the area that he'd found in Renji's bookshelf, while the geologist had armed himself with a map and coloured pens and sat at his desk, transferring data from his field book.

Work progressed slowly as Renji's every nerve was singing with tension. The moment he'd caught himself pacing and checking the clock for the umpteenth time he had sat down to work, hoping it would calm his mind. But Shūhei was out there tangling with Gin... and Renji was worried.

Byakuya Kuchiki's quiet, undemanding presence was an unexpected boon. The man didn't fidget or pace. He didn't make meaningless conversation to pass the time. And he didn't berate Renji for his ill-hidden agitation. Instead he sat there reading, serene and unruffled, helping Renji to focus on his work rather than the butterflies playing hockey in his guts.

As soon as Shūhei put in an appearance, Renji knew that all the worry had been for nought. The brunet looked as smug as the cat who'd won the lock pick to the aviary. And the diabolical gleam in the eucalyptus eyes cheered Renji no end.

They ordered room service and shared updates along with an early dinner before Shūhei sat down in the middle of the floor to examine his purchases while Byakuya and Renji watched him in confusion.

For reasons known only to himself Shūhei had bought two backpacks – larger than the one he was travelling with – plus a cami jacket, a dun-coloured vest and a hat. Shūhei went through his new gear with an attention to detail that baffled his friend. Surely Shūhei knew what he'd bought and had checked out each item before parting with his hard-earned?

It wasn't until the brunet started to chuckle, that Renji got a clue. "He put something in the gear you bought?"

"Oh, he's a sneaky bugger," Shūhei grinned. "But he didn't learn from the masters, so..."

Renji watched as Shūhei removed a toggle from each of the packs, one from the jacket's waist adjustment tab and one from the zip that kept the vest's hidden hood out of the way. He slipped them into the breast pocket of his shirt and leaned his back against the coffee table like a man who'd done a good day's work and was pleased with his efforts.

"What are you planning to use these for, Hisagi?" Byakuya asked when it became obvious that Shūhei wasn't going to explain matters anytime soon.

"Misdirection," Shūhei replied promptly. "Though I still have hope that we'll get out of here tomorrow without any further excitement."

"And what is the likelihood of that happening?"

Shūhei rose and stretched before gathering up his things. "Not quite the same as a snowstorm hitting the hotel tonight, but not far off," he acknowledged the thread of sarcasm in Byakuya's voice. "Gin was... rather complacent."

"You think he'll try to keep us here?"

"Probably. I've tried to insinuate that that would be a bad mistake. Let's see if he can take a hint. We should get some sleep – just in case."

The men turned in and Renji was grateful when he had his rooms to himself once more. He wouldn't admit it aloud, but the crash had rattled his cage. The thought that someone wanted him dead... His back itched as if he wore a target painted on his shirt and he instinctively stayed well away from the windows.

He got ready for bed, but sleep eluded him. The day had been so full of conflicting emotions that his mind was reeling. Anger and confusion mixed with worry until his fingers tingled and his skin felt too tight. Earlier, Byakuya's presence had calmed him and watching Hisagi at work had been an excellent distraction, but now his mind wouldn't focus on anything but a pale face with a close-fitting cap of silver hair leaning out of a truck window.

Music wasn't helping. Reading wasn't helping. Not even a cold shower could erase that image from Renji's inner eye. Was Gin working for Aizen and had gotten wind of Renji's find? Or had the man acted for someone else? Someone Renji didn't even know about? And most of all... what, if anything, could he do about it?

They were planning to leave the town after breakfast, ostensibly to visit a local tracker to discuss a hunting trip. The Kuchiki company jet would be waiting for them at the airport. Would Gin guess their plans and come after them?

It was past midnight when Renji's brain was exhausted enough veer away from the never ending circles of speculation. And like a child clutching a toy for comfort, Renji focussed on images of a slim man with inky hair and amethyst eyes, a man who looked as out of place in this small town as a giraffe at a petrol station, but whose presence and poise had dominated the bar, a man who could sound cruel and heartless, yet came to his aid without hesitation.

Renji drifted on the cusp of sleep, lulled into security by the memory of Byakuya's cool touch on his forehead, when screams intruded into the quiet of the night. Heart hammering wildly he shot up in bed, hands clutching the sheets, ears straining to catch sounds until the sounds suddenly made sense:

"Fire!"

xxX _TBC_ Xxx

**A/N: **This was an extremely hard chapter to write, so I'd be eternally grateful if you could let me know how you think it's going. If you're a writer, you'll understand. If you're not, please let me assure you that reviews are one of the best motivational tools for writers ever invented! :-)

Thanks for sticking with this story!


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